


Off Beat

by Lapras



Category: EDM
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 16:01:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lapras/pseuds/Lapras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a different world, in a different time, a new Ed Banger comes together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Off Beat

**Author's Note:**

> This was for an EDM mini bang that never came together. I just wanted to share it with you.

Pedro stared out at the ocean of students. They came in every shape and size and color. There wasn’t anyone who didn’t have someone beside them. And yet he felt distinctly separate from all of them.

Bertrand leaned up so his face was level with Pedro’s. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Pedro said back.

Sometimes he forgot about Bertrand. It sounded harsh to say. He couldn’t actually forget the boy, but sometimes he wanted to. It was tough feeling like you were two thirds of a whole.

“What’s up?” Bertrand continued.

Pedro shook his head. “Absolutely nothing.”

Bertrand made a small noise. “Tell me about it…”

The school assembly slugged onward towards release. The end of the day was the best part of the day. Some impressively built senior girl was standing at the front of the gymnasium, refusing a microphone. Instead, she shouted out to the whole school her message of athletics.

“Girl’s field hockey try outs later this afternoon. Bring your A game ladies!”

Her voice echoed off the sloped walls of the gym. Pedro started feeling claustrophobic. Another duo stood up, giving some dramatic monologue about the school play. It went on like this for a while. Children begging attendance to their clubs. And Pedro becoming starkly aware that he belonged to none of them. A small girl with a delicate face and a smoky voice announced that the chorus was taking new prospects. She ran a hand through his brunette hair and belted out some lines from _He’s A Tramp_ from the movie Lady and the Tramp.

“He's a tramp  
He's a rover  
And there's nothing  
More to say  
If he's a tramp  
He's a good one  
And I wish that I  
Could travel his way.”

Pedro recognized her. Anna Something, he couldn’t remember. She was a trouble maker, he knew that much. He was surprised to see her with the choir.

When they were mercifully released, Pedro stayed seated for a minute. The rush of bodies passed him by and Bertrand studied him silently.

“Do you feel like we’re not…doing anything,” he said, sighing on the last lame beat.

Bertrand shrugged. “We haven’t done anything our whole lives. Why worry now?”

Pedro glanced at his friend. Then he sighed. “I guess it’s just starting to hit me. How little we’ve done.”

“Speak for yourself,” Bertrand said and stood up. Pedro stared at him as he smoothed his jacket down. “What?”

“Have you been keeping something from me?” Pedro asked.

“Come on,” Bertrand sighed and offered a hand to Pedro. He lifted the other boy from his seat and gestured for him to follow. “I don’t just sit on my hands while you’re not around.”

Pedro couldn’t help but smile. The boys left the gym and crossed through the parking lot. The library stood on the top of a small hill, so that if you stood in front of the doors, you could see the whole campus. But you kind of had to work to get there. Which meant it was usually a safe place.

Bertrand lead Pedro back into the computer lab, which was tucked away in the basement. There were a couple of kids in there, but no one they were very close with. Bertrand took the station farthest from everyone else.

“I guess I’ve been thinking about college and stuff,” he mumbled as he logged into his account. He started going through his files, which had much more than just homework assignments. Bertrand stopped then and put a hand on the screen. “I don’t know…”

Pedro took a seat, pulling it up studiously. “I promise I’ll take it seriously.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of…” Bertrand sighed and opened a file.

What came up was a bunch of drawings. Illustrations. Graphics. _Things_. Pedro gaped. There was so much stuff. It was fascinating. Logos for companies that didn’t exist and graphics for tee shirts and posters for events that had yet to pass.

“This stuff is awesome,” Pedro said quietly, afraid to embarrass his friend. “Why didn’t you tell me…?”

 Bertrand looked at the keyboard as if it held the secret to life. “I didn’t start it until last spring…and then I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to remind you…”

Pedro put a hand on Bertrand’s shoulder. “I’m glad for you. That’s what matters.”

“OI!” a voice cried out behind them. Bertrand jumped and they both spun around to see two gangly seniors hovering over them. One of them was pointing at the screen. “That’s pretty freaking cool,” he cried. “Guy-Man, isn’t it cool?”

The guy didn’t even look at his companion, just dutifully nodded in response.

“It’s cool,” the guy went on. “You should make something for us.”

Bertrand stared at the screen. “I don’t know, it’s just stuff I do—”

“He’d love to,” Pedro grinned and put a hand on Bertrand’s back.

“And who are you?” the senior asked, not in a threatening way, but it was still intimidating.

Pedro jumped to his feet. “I’m Pedro. This is my friend Bertrand. You guys are seniors right?”

The talkative one grabbed his friend by the shoulders, pulling him close. “I’m Thomas, and this is Guy-Man. Yeah, we’re seniors, but don’t let that scare you. We play it cool, you know?”

Pedro blinked. The boy talked _fast_.

“Pleased to meet you. How can we help?”

Thomas gave Guy-Man an encouraging smile. “Well…the design work is cool but I’m not sure we’re ready for it.”

Guy-Man gave a sigh, blowing some of his curly hair off his forehead. Thomas looked apologetic.

“What are you trying to do?” Pedro asked, leaning against the back of Bertrand’s chair. The other boy was happy to have some cover from the senior’s piercing gaze.

“What do we do?” Thomas repeated. He drummed his fingers on his friend’s shoulder. Guy-Man offered no help. “We make noise.”

“Noise? Like music?”

“I don’t think we’ve made it that far,” Thomas confessed. “But it’s a work in progress.”

Pedro glanced back and forth between them. Thomas was smiling warmly, and Guy-Man was just kind of studying them all. He couldn’t tell if he was getting a please-ask-to-see-what-we’re-working-on vibe, or a fuck-off-we-got-it vibe. The two worked spectacularly well together.

“Can I…listen to it?” he said hesitantly.

Thomas made a contemplative noise and the boys looked at each other. Guy-Man gave an almost imperceptible shrug. Thomas beamed.

“Come on down.” He drew Pedro closer to their computer station. Pedro turned and looked at Bertrand who was shaking his head with a smile. Pedro gestured for Bertrand to follow, but his friend just waved at him and turned back to his work.

Thomas took Pedro’s shoulders and sat him down in front of a computer. Then he slapped some chunky headphones on him and started searching for a file. When he hit play, for a second the music was blindingly loud and Pedro jumped. Thomas turned the volume down and mouthed _sorry sorry sorry_. When it settled back down, Pedro had to close his eyes.

The music was strange, that much was clear. But strange wasn’t bad. It was a blend of electronic noise and traditional instruments. It was like a pleasing clash of sound. A tidal wave of rhythm and melody. It made him want to move. But there was something missing. When the track finished, Pedro nodded his head.

“Yeah. Yeah I like it. I think?”

“You think?” Thomas asked.

Pedro smiled. “I think you guys are on to something.”

“But we’re not there yet,” he finished. Guy-Man looked away from them.

“Almost there,” Pedro said with a smile. He put the headphones back on and slipped back into the song. He followed the highs and lows, not as a listener but as an editor. He tried to figure out what it was missing.

When it ended again he turned to the boys. “Vocals.”

Guy-Man touched Thomas’s shoulder, giving him an _I told you so_ look. Thomas sighed, but with a smile. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Got any ideas who could do it?” Pedro asked. His hands were itching for the headphones again. He wanted to keep listening. There was something mesmerizing about it.

“Nah, but you should keep an out for us,” Thomas threw an arm around Pedro and leaned in close. “Maybe we should put you on our payroll.”

Guy-Man huffed.

“Well we would if we had money,” Thomas clarified.

Something started to bubble up inside Pedro. A feeling he wasn’t used to. It kind of made him want to dance and vomit at the same time.

“I’ll do it for free,” he found himself saying.

Thomas grinned and he elbowed his friend who almost kind of smiled. “Look at that, we got ourselves a manager.”

Pedro was smiling. Actually smiling. When he stood up, Guy-Man shoved him in the shoulder. He thought for a split second that it was malicious, that the boys were making fun of him, until he saw Guy-Man nod at him.

Acceptance. He was feeling acceptance.

 

Pedro dropped Bertrand off at his home, per usual.

Bertrand got out of the car, but turned and leaned into the open space.

“You like those guys?” he asked. “Those seniors?”

Pedro made a face, trying to restrain himself from immediately agreeing and espousing their awesomeness. “Yeah I think they could be cool to have around.”

Bertrand made a noise. “As if you have them on retainer.”

“Hey, _they_ approached _us_. You should take them up on their offer. Make some cool stuff for them,” he leaned forward and pushed on his friend’s shoulder. “You artist you.”

Bertrand tried not to smile. “Shut up. I wouldn’t have shown you if you hadn’t looked so damn sad.”

Those words caught Pedro off guard. “When do I look sad?”

Bertrand’s gaze his the ground.

Pedro couldn’t respond.

Bertrand straightened up. “You looked happy talking with them. They must be pretty good.” He clapped his hands awkwardly together and then slowly closed the door.

Pedro drove home in a daze. He hadn’t joked around like that with Bertrand in months. He also hadn’t felt like he’d been punched in the stomach in a while. It was hard to reconcile the two feelings.

His email delayed the choice when he returned home. There was a message waiting for him. From Thomas and Guy-Man. Addressed to _Our Manager._ It seemed like they had loaded the email with as many tracks as it could handle and still send. All of their original stuff. Pedro didn’t stop to wonder how they’d gotten hold of his email—he certainly hadn’t given it to them—he just got his headphones out and pressed play.

 

When the weekend hit, Pedro dragged Bertrand out of his house and into their town.

“What are you doing?” Bertrand asked, staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Kidnapping you,” Pedro responded with a glint in his eye. He stepped on the gas as they hit the straightaway that led to the main strip.

“But seriously,” Bertrand said, reaching for a hand hold. “What’s going on?”

Pedro tried to calm his nerves. “There’s a show in town. I want to go.”

“A show?” Bertrand watched him carefully. “Who’s playing?”

He shrugged. “Dunno. I don’t really care. I was just starting to feel restless, you know?”

Bertrand allowed himself a smile. “Alright. A show. How are we getting in?”

Pedro’s smile fell from his lips. “Hadn’t thought of that…”

When they parked and strolled up to the entrance of the _RadioHeart_. The bouncer outside looked all business. He didn’t just glance at ID’s, he checked dates. Pedro’s heart sank.

“Maybe we should just go?” Bertrand asked.

Pedro lifted his chin up. “We’re doing it.”

Five minutes later, the boys found themselves sitting on the curb outside the club. The bouncer shook his head at them.

“You didn’t even have a fake ID,” Bertrand whispered.

“I wasn’t thinking,” Pedro sighed into his hands. “I’m an idiot.”

A car horn startled him out of his brood. He lifted his head to see a beautiful old mustang with a gleaming shaved head sticking out the window.

“I know you’re an idiot, but why?” the guy in the car asked.

“Zdar!” Pedro jumped up from the curb. “What are you doing here?”

Zdar gestured to the club. “Here for the show. What, are you begging for cash?”

Pedro scratched his neck. “We may or may not have been thrown out of line.”

Zdar threw his head back and laughed. “Way to go. Well good to know you’ve been busy, P. Gimme me a second to park. I’ll get you in.”

Pedro thanked him as he drove away. Bertrand elbowed him. “Busy P? Sounds like a DJ name.”

Pedro smirked. “Maybe I should start going by that.”

“That’d be weird,” Bertrand threw his hands behind his head. “But I kind of like it.”

Zdar and his partner in crime strolled up in leather jackets even though summer still clung to the air. Pedro and Bertrand tried to stand up next to them and not look like punk kids. Zdar hugged Pedro immediately, shattering the awkwardness in the air.

“How you been?” he asked. “You guys holding up?”

“Yeah, trying,” Pedro said. “We found these guys at school. They’re doing crazy stuff. Stuff like you guys.”

“Awesome,” Zdar said. Then he put his arm around Pedro’s shoulder and the four of them headed inside. The bouncer let them in this time without question. Zdar led them up to the front of the room. Pedro stared up at the empty stage. He felt his chest tightening again. The room was filling up, pressing him closer to the stage. Bertrand was arm to arm with him on one side, and Zdar on his other. He could feel about three other people making contact with him somewhere, but no one cared. They were all focused on the empty stage.

“Did you even check to see who was playing?” Bertrand nudged Pedro.

Pedro shook his head. Bertrand smiled to himself.

Someone took the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special treat for you tonight. After asking again and again,” he almost sighed, looking somewhere between exasperated and pleasantly surprised. “And again, we’ve agreed to have a local duo open for the show. They’re quit a pair, so please give it up for…”

He glanced at a sheet of paper in the palm of his hand. “Justice.”

Everyone in the room seemed to do the same internal debate about whether to stick around or bounce before this got bad. Pedro told himself to stay. That even if this turned out horrible, he came here for a show, and he was going to get one.

When two kids stepped out on stage, with a long beat up synthesizer and a even more beat up laptop, he had to smile, even if everyone else seemed to tense up.

“Don’t you have class with one of those guys?” Bertrand asked.

He was pointing to a boy with hair like Jesus. Pedro let out a laugh. Both of the boys on stage turned to glare at him. He covered his mouth and gave a small wave.

“Hey,” he called up. “Don’t I know you?”

The boys onstage tried to continue setting up. Pedro leaned forward. “From Mr. Haley’s Pre-calc!”

“Dude,” Bertrand yanked Pedro back from the stage. “Just let them perform.”

“Oh,” Pedro leaned in again, cupping his hands around his mouth in a loud whisper. “Sorry! We’ll talk later!”

The smaller boy, a wiry kid with floppy black hair stepped over to Pedro and gave him the finger before returning to the laptop. Pedro glanced nervously at Bertrand, who shook his head. Zdar, on the other hand, had started laughing uncontrollably.

When the boys were ready, the teenage Jesus took the keys and the other boy was on the laptop. The sound that burst from the stage nearly knocked everyone off their feet. Pedro grabbed onto Bertrand’s arm, who welcomed the anchor to reality. Something immediately shifted once the music started. These were not boys Pedro knew from school. They were musicians or maybe mad scientists. Or maybe just Mad. Whatever it was, Pedro liked it.

The sound was simultaneously stressful and pleasing. It made him anxious, like if he stopped moving, he might start to cry. And yet, he wanted nothing more than to have the privilege of listening to this experiment. It was all building towards this great release of energy. Like a religious experience. Pedro danced. It was all he could do.

He wanted to know them. He wanted to show them to Thomas and Guy-Man and listen to the genius they could all conjure together. He wanted Bertrand to design them a logo that they could wear proudly. Bottom line, he wanted to know these people. And he wanted to be a part of something big. Bigger than himself.

When the Justice boys had finished, there was stunned silence, and then someone remembered to clap and it took the room by storm.

“Man,” Zdar said. “I need to talk to those boys.”

“I saw them first,” Pedro shouted.

“I can hear you,” Zdar said with a smile.

“What?” Pedro shouted back. There was a buzzing in her ears like an angry bee hive.

 Zdar shook his head. “Nothing. Go talk to them then.”

The boys were packing up their stuff. Pedro was a man possessed. He climbed onto the stage, going after them.

“Do you need help?” he tried not to shout the words, but he could barely hear himself.

Electro Jesus glanced at his friend, who raised an eyebrow. He pointed at an amplifier on the ground. Pedro happily scooped it up off the stage.

“You know, I’m kind of starting a band,” he screamed at them as they packed away the keyboard and laptop. Both of them startled at his voice.

Jesus mumbled something, gesturing to his friend who wasn’t looking at Pedro.

“I’m sorry,” Pedro’s throat hurt. “I can’t really hear you right now. Let’s talk outside!”

Jesus’s eyes had gone wide. He was probably regretting letting the insane fan boy onto the stage, but the extra hands were appreciated. When all their stuff was off the stage, they headed into the parking lot where one of them had a car parked. Pedro put the amp where the small boy pointed. Once outside, his head began to clear, and his ears started ringing like church bells.

He tapped Jesus on the shoulder. “You guys were so awesome!”

Jesus looked a little less freaked this time. But he still glanced nervously at his companion.

“When I said I’m starting a band, I don’t mean I want you guys to stop doing what you’re doing. I want you guys to be you. To be Justice. But I want you guys to be you, while you’re in the same room with us.”

He was smiling at Jesus who was staring at him.

Pedro felt this nagging sensation in his gut. Something was telling him that he had to have these boys on his side. It wouldn’t let him quit.

“Do you know Thomas and Guy-Man? The seniors? They do this kind of stuff too. And you guys are all amazing and I think you should meet. I’m kind of their manager I think.”

The boy mouthed something. Pedro made out the words this time.

“You think?”

“Okay, I _am_ their manager. I’m helping them figure out their sound, you know? I think you could benefit from knowing each other though. You’re both doing something…” Pedro shook his head, feeling starry eyed. “I don’t think this has ever been done before.”

Something about his words or the way he said them seemed to sink into the small boy, who was leaning against the car. He nodded a few times and looked into Jesus’s eyes. Jesus thanked Pedro, and then they got into the car and drove away.

Pedro did not know what the hell had just happened.

 

He couldn’t stay any longer. He fished Bertrand from the crowd and gave Zdar and his friend Boom a hug and then he got out of there.

“What’s gotten into you?” Bertrand asked. “I’ve never seen you like this. You’re manic, man.”

Pedro smiled. “I need you to make something for me. Maybe we can make it together.”

“You’re going to make me regret showing you my work, aren’t you?” Bertrand asked. There was heaviness in his voice, but Pedro grinned at his friend, and Bertrand managed to smile back.

“I want to mean something,” Pedro said to him, gripping the steering wheel. “Can you help me?”

Bertrand sat in the passenger seat, pulling one of his legs up to rest on the dash board. He reached over and held onto Pedro’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure if his friend wouldn’t speak, or couldn’t. It was answer enough.

 

“It looks gorgeous,” Pedro said.

“It’s a piece of paper…” Bertrand sighed. “And I still think it’s not done.”

“If it were up to you it would have sat on your computer for ten years before seeing the light of day. That’s why I’m here. To get your gorgeous work out into the world.”

Bertrand seemed to be shrinking in on himself.

“Come on man,” Pedro put his arm around his shoulder. “You’re talented. Why can’t you just accept it?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty cool,” Bertrand conceded.

The boys laughed together, admiring the flier that had bee thrown together in a hurry the night before.

 

Calling All Freaky Musicians!

Have you been experimenting with sound?

Mixing mashing or otherwise?

Are you bored with school bands?

Join our group.

Contact Busy P for details.

 

“If I have a nickname, than you need one too,” Pedro said to Bertrand. “You have to be able to sign your work.”

“Why can’t I just be me?” Bertrand asked.

“You are you,” Pedro assured him. “But maybe you should also be someone with a name that’s easier to say.”

Bertrand shoved Pedro.

“It’s not my fault your parents are super French,” Pedro said.

“I’ll think about it,” Bertrand told him. “Maybe.”

 

The fliers were scattered all over campus. You couldn’t walk two feet without finding one. Pedro was scared that no one would want to do it. That it would be for nothing. He never thought he’d have to turn someone away.

He was 3 minutes away from being late to class. A shadow appeared in front of him. A shadow with an IPod.

“You’re Busy P?” the shadow asked. It was a sophomore guy wearing all black, with dark hair that almost fell into his eyes. His nose was like a mountain ridge. He was startlingly handsome, in a completely unexpected way.

“Y-yeah,” Pedro managed when he found his voice again.

“I’m here for details,” the boy said. The way he said details, _duh-tails_ , made Pedro smile.

“Sure. You have any music for me to listen to?”

“Here,” the boy raised up a set of headphones.

“Oh, I’m kind of going to be late for class,” he said, pointing in the direction of his building.

The boy shook his head. “Nope.” And he clapped the headphones on him.

Pedro didn’t put up much of a fight. The boy hit play and the music started. Students rushed by them, like they were stones in a river. Pedro closed his eyes and listened. It was music, yes, even good music. But it wasn’t right. It wasn’t alive. There was potential, but it was misshapen. Pedro took his headphones off.

“I’m sorry, but it’s not quite what we’re looking for.”

“What are you looking for?” the boy asked, his eyes taking on an edge.

Pedro gave a sheepish laugh. “I’ll let you know when we find out.”

The boy didn’t take his eyes off Pedro, didn’t even seem to blink. “How can you turn me down for something you don’t understand?”

A knot formed in Pedro’s gut. “I’m really sorry. It’s good music man, but it doesn’t fit with the rest of us. It’s not quite right. We’re doing something a little…different.”

The boy took his headphones back and brushed by him without a word. Pedro turned and yelled, “I’m sorry man! You got style!”

The boy didn’t turn around.

 

The light of the computer screen gave Thomas’s face a wicked gleam. The labs were always dark. Always.

“You know what we should do? We should stalk the choir,” he said as he messed with some levels. Guy-Man had headphones on and was giving him signals. Tweak it here, let it go here. Bertrand was on the next computer over, putting together potential logos for their supposed band. But now he was staring at them.

“You’re going to stalk the choir?” Bertrand repeated.

“We need vocals. As beautiful as Guy’s voice is—” the other boy cut him a glare. Thomas threw his hands up. “I said it was beautiful. But we need some variety.”

He leaned closer to Pedro and Bertrand. “We need _girls_ , man.”

“Hey, do you guys know this kid who dresses all in black.”

All three of them looked at Pedro. He sighed. “I know, that could be half the damn school. But this kid is different. I think he’s younger than us. He’s kind of freaky looking. But not ugly. He kind of scared me.”

“Oh,” Thomas snapped his fingers. “I think I know him. Guy, you know him. He’s the one who never smiles. What’s his name?”

Guy-Man slowly shook his head.

“Simon…no…it’s got an S.”

“Sebastian?” Bertrand offered.

“Yes!” Thomas threw his hands up. “That’s the one. Crazy little man. He conned his way into my elective class only to drop it 2 days later. Bastard’s only in 10th grade. Why do you ask?”

“He gave me music,” Pedro said, spinning around in his chair.

“Was it good?”

“It was fine,” he said and Thomas and Guy-Man made the same face.

“Ahh,” Thomas said. “Fine.”

“I mean he’s talented, but he’s young. Maybe he’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Yeah, but we have bigger things to worry about. Like who’s going to sing for us. Come on, the choir starts up in 15 minutes. You boys are going to be our spies.”

“Us?” Bertrand looked up from the computer.

Pedro stared at Thomas. “You’re not coming?”

Guy-Man shook his head.

“We got work to do,” Thomas said. “Besides, you’re the manager. That means you have to solve these problems for us.”

Pedro smiled. “You know, sometimes I think you guys don’t ever leave here.”

“If Guy is more than 10 feet away from a computer, he shuts down,” Thomas explained. “And I obviously can’t leave him here. So, off with you.”

 

The girl’s choir was just getting into the swing of things when Pedro and Bertrand snuck up outside the building. The windows were cracked, but also eight feet up.

Pedro kneeled down by Bertrand’s ankles. “Get on my shoulders.”

“What?” Bertrand tried to back up but wound up tripping on Pedro, who was crouched behind him. When Pedro tried to stand, Bertrand’s calf was on his shoulder and he wound up collapsed on his friend in the grass.

“Well,” a voice said.

The boys turned to see a tiny bleach blonde girl leaning against the wall.

“I’m going to need a cigarette after that,” she said, folding her arms with a smile.

Pedro tried to untangle himself from Bertrand’s legs. When they were separated they jumped to their feet.

“You’re Anna right?” Pedro said and held out his hand.

She raised an eyebrow before shaking. “I don’t go by that name anymore. It’s Uffie now.”

“You changed your hair,” Bertrand said, pointing at her face.

She shrugged. “This is the 3rd color of the semester.”

“It looks nice,” he said.

“You’re So Me, aren’t you?” she asked with a smile. “Got a cigarette?”

He shook his head.  

“So Me?” Pedro asked, looking at Bertrand.

His friend shrugged.

Uffie reached into her pocket, producing a cigarette and a lighter. She used it as a pointer. “Your friend’s pretty good with can of spray paint. Been by the arcade lately?”

Pedro beamed at Bertrand. “You’re spray painting? Buildings? And you’re signing with a sweet name? This is perfect!”

Bertrand stepped toward Uffie. “Aren’t you supposed to be in chorus right now?”

She took a long drag. “Yeah I guess. Unless you got something better.”

The boys looked at each other. Pedro took a deep breath.

“We’re starting a band. We need vocals. I think you’re perfect for it.”

She gave them both long studious looks. After ashing her cigarette against the wall, she nodded once.

“I have to do something. Wait here.”

And she stepped away. As she rounded the corner, Bertrand gestured for Pedro to come closer.

“I’ll lift you this time.”

Pedro climbed onto Bertrand’s shoulders and his friend lifted him up to the window. Pedro gripped the sill and watched as Uffie stepped into the classroom. She still had the cigarette in her hand.

“Hey, Anna, you can’t smoke in here. You shouldn’t be smoking at all,” the choir teacher said, a wiry old woman with thick glasses that magnified her eyes like a bug.

Uffie walked up to her and handed her the cigarette. “I’m quitting.”

“That’s good,” the teacher said, blinking. “Cigarettes will damage your voice.”

“I meant the choir.” Uffie turned on her heel and walked out the room. Pedro looked down at Bertrand.

“Man, this is crazy.”

Bertrand laughed. “Maybe this is going to work.”

“Hey…should I call you So Me?”

“Am I supposed to call you Busy P?”

Uffie stepped back around the corner, looking at the boys stacked one on top of the other. “Look at you two…when’s practice?”

“As soon as you can make it,” Pedro beamed at her.

She turned away from them, wrapping her long coat around her tighter. Bertrand looked up at Pedro.

“I think my legs are going to give out.”

Bertrand stumbled. Pedro laughed. The boys hit the ground.

 

 

3rd period Biology. Pedro was scratching his head at a test, hoping to wither the paper away. He knew the answers. Or he used to. But now, all he could bring himself to think about was music. The song kept coming back to him. The song that Thomas and Guy-Man were working on. The one that Uffie would sing for and Bertrand would use as inspiration. It tapped through his veins and beat against his heart.

 _Tap, tap, tap_.

Pedro blinked. No, that was actually happening. He glanced over at the window next to the doorway to see Jesus staring into his eyes. Then another smaller boy popped up beside him and he blinked out of his daydream. It was the Justice boys. The small one was waving at Pedro, beckoning him outside. Pedro looked at up at the teacher and raised his hand.

“Can I use the bathroom?” Pedro asked.

The teacher rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

He slunk out of the room. Bertrand gave him puppy eyes as he shut the door as quietly as he could.

The boys were there. With a CD in their hands.

“I’m Gaspard,” Jesus said. “And this is Xavier.”

Xavier handed him the CD. “We put our blood and sweat into this.”

“I hope not literally,” Pedro said as he accepted the CD. Xavier just stared at him.

“Will you call us, Busy P?” Gaspard asked.

“For what?” Pedro asked.

“If we’ve been accepted,” Xavier snapped.

Gaspard nudged his friend’s shoulder, a gentle incentive to calm himself down. Xavier wrapped long arms around himself and huffed.

Pedro was a little speechless, yet again. It seemed to keep happening to him.

“There are no try-outs,” he said. “You’re both already in. You’re brilliant.”

Xavier’s eyes were huge. Then he jumped up and wrapped his arms around Gaspard’s neck. Gaspard spun him around in a circle and then threw his hands up in the air.

“Yes!”

The word echoed through the entire hall of classrooms.

“I have to go finish a test guys….I’ll talk to you later.”

Gaspard nodded gravely at him, Xavier still clinging to his neck. “Bye.”

When Pedro slipped back into the classroom, the teacher gave him a funny look. He sank into his seat next to Bertrand.

“Good bathroom break?” Bertrand asked.

Pedro punched him. “Yes.”

 

The first meeting with all seven of them went strangely, to say the least.

“Who is that guy?” Xavier asked, pointing at a boy who had come in with Uffie. “I thought you said there were only 7. I count 8.”

Pedro hedged. “Uhh, he’s right, Uffie. Who’s your guest?”

They were all packed into the computer labs. Thomas and Guy-Man had insisted they meet there much to the chagrin of Mr. Schneider, and Mr. Hutter, the computer professors who ran the labs.

“Just promise me you’ll keep the noise to a minimum,” Mr. Schneider said to them as everyone took seats.

Thomas saluted him. “Yes sir.”

“Everyone this is my boyfriend, Fabien. He goes by Feadz He likes what we’re doing. He wrote a song for me to sing on. I think he should join.”

Pedro grinned at her. “This is amazing! So many musicians under one roof. Can we listen to it now?”

She shrugged and looked at her gangly boyfriend.

“Yeah,” Fabien gave a huge smile. “Let’s give it a go.”

He logged into his computer and after a minute, released a quiet simple thing that Uffie picked up and turned on its head. Her voice changed the whole tune, made it something new. Fabien was in the corner, bobbing his head, Uffie on his lap, tapping her fingers. Bertrand was busy on his computer, but Pedro could see him bouncing his leg in time with it. Thomas on the other hand had his hands up in the air, swiveling his desk chair, having a blast. Gaspard and Xavier remained impassive, sitting together, looking in opposite directions, their shoulders touching.

When it was over Pedro and Thomas were clapping. Uffie gave them nods.

“What did you two think of it?” Pedro asked the Justice boys.

Xavier blinked. “I get it.”

“I thought it was cool,” Gaspard offered. “You’re voice is great.”

“Her voice is awesome,” Thomas said, floored. “I’m going to make you some music, girl. You’re going to love it. Busy P, you got it right!” He pointed at Pedro, grinning.

Pedro smiled. “Alright, who’s next?”

Xavier jumped up. “Me. Us. We’re next.”

“Take it away,” Pedro said and sat down next to Bertrand. He leaned over to his friend as Xavier set up their track. “What do you think?”

Bertrand smiled at the screen. “I think you’re nuts.”

Pedro returned the smile, leaning closer until he was resting his head on Bertrand’s shoulder. “And?”

“And,” he said slowly. “I think it’s great.”

“Hush,” Xavier hissed at them and pressed play.

Pedro didn’t move from Bertrand’s shoulder. Justice filled the room with sound and for a moment, the world stopped spinning away from him so quickly.

 

At the end of the meet, Pedro told them his master plan.

“Alright guys, here’s what I think we should do.”

Everyone turned to look at him, 7 expectant pair of eyes. It was jarring and for a minute, he wanted to run from the room. Bertrand nodded at him, and he managed to keep going.

“I want us all to do something together. A song.”

“What else are we here for?” Xavier asked. Gaspard put a hand on his shoulder.

“What I mean is that I want it to be collaborative. We’ll start with something from Thomas and Guy-Man. Hopefully they can put together something that Uffie can sing on. And then Fabien can bring his touch. And then Justice can tear it up. But the trick is that we all have to keep the fingerprint of everyone else who’s touched it. Sound good?”

“What is this for?” Uffie asked.

Pedro clapped his hands together. “You know…I really don’t know. Maybe we can perform at the club in town. Or maybe it’ll just rot in my hard drive. But what I think is that everyone will be inspired. I think you’re all here because you love music. So let’s just do what we love.”

She smiled at him then. He felt something click into place. This was good. It was right.

 

Pedro had a lunch routine. He got his food from the line, and then he and Bertrand found the least offensive table to sit at the back of. This table turned out the to be in the very center of the room, at the left side, by the wall. No one really questioned them back there. They could eat and talk quietly and exist in their own bubble. As they took their seats, not five minutes went by before Thomas and Guy-Man had flanked them and Thomas was talking his ear off about the track and how it was coming along. Soon after, Justice had joined them, Xavier offering his input.

“We’ll be able to put something up by the end of the week,” Thomas was saying.

“Up where?” Xavier asked, leaning closer.

“Online,” Thomas clarified. “We can put up our portion of the track and send it to Uffie and she can do with it whatever she wants and then send it along. But this way we can all hear every step as it comes along.”

“What if someone steals it?” Xavier asked.

“It should be stealable,” Pedro said. “How cool would it be if other people used our music?”

Xavier leaned back. Gaspard was nodding. “It would be pretty cool.”

“Hey where’s my track?” Uffie had appeared behind Pedro. She leaned forward, putting her arms around his neck.

“We’re working on it,” Thomas said, holding his hands up. “Soon.”

“Where’s Fabien?” Bertrand asked.

Uffie shrugged, shifting her arms around Pedro’s neck. “Dunno. We broke up.”

“So soon?” Pedro asked. “Why?”

“Whatever,” she said. “It’s just high school. He’ll be fine. I want to _sing_.”

She drew out the last word, smiling at Thomas. Guy-Man elbowed Thomas, who fanned himself.

“You know,” Gaspard said. “We have something you could sing on.”

Her eyes brightened. They got to talking and Pedro kicked Bertrand under the table and smiled.

“Hey,” Thomas put a hand on Pedro’s shoulder. “I might have found us a new addition.”

“Who?” he asked.

“Well, there’s a slight problem. He goes to another school.”

Pedro sucked in air.

“But he’s talented,” Thomas went on. “Guy-Man is helping him put something together actually. He’s got promise. But…”

“There’s another but?” Pedro asked.

Thomas gave him a smile. “He’s kind of…weird…”

Pedro laughed at that. “Well aren’t we all?”

“You’ll have to see for yourself,” Thomas said cryptically.

The look on Guy-Man’s face made Pedro nervous.

 

Thursday, the song went up online. Pedro was ecstatic. He must have listened to the track a hundred times while doing his homework. Or trying to do his homework. The song kept pulling him away. They did their job perfectly. Just as he asked them to. A starting point. The supports that the others would build off of. They were going to make a sky scraper of a song. It would be beautiful.

Friday, Bertrand and Pedro sat in the back of their English class in 3rd period. Someone was going on about Charles Dickens when the intercom squeaked on. Everyone stopped to look at the speaker, which was odd because it didn’t change its appearance. The teacher just looked confused.

A quiet voice spoke. “I am Sebastian.”

And then, music.

Not just any music. _His_ music. Pedro grabbed Bertrand’s arm. It was the song that Thomas and Guy-Man had uploaded last night. But different. It was dark. It had attitude. It was _good._

“You’re hurting my arm, P,” Bertrand said.

Pedro’s mouth was hanging open. He turned to him. “That little bastard remixed our song.”

He faced the speaker again, as if he could see through it. Maybe the wires would reveal what was going through the kid’s mind. This was so much different from what he had shown Pedro before. This was unique, even as a remix. Thomas and Guy-Man’s signature remained, but the kid, Sebastian, had put his completely unique spin on it.

The door to the classroom burst open. Guy-Man was there, panting. He pointed at the speaker. Then he just threw his hands up.

“It’s good,” Pedro said to him.

Guy-Man stared him down for a minute, tilting his head to the speaker. He let out a long sigh and finally nodded. Then, with a defeated slump, he left the room again.

“Do you need to take care of something, Pierre?” the teacher asked.

Pedro stiffened. “Uh…no. I’m okay.”

The class stifled their giggles. Soon enough, the song abruptly came to an end and the vice principle came onto the loud speaker.

“I’m sorry about that, students and teachers, you may continue class without worry.”

Pedro looked at Bertrand, eyebrows sky-high, pointing up at the speaker. Bertrand cracked up laughing.

 

After school, Pedro found the boy behind the school with the rest of the smokers. His arms hung at his sides and he was listening to his IPod, head tiled up, eyes closed, in some other place.

Pedro pulled off his headphones. “Earth to Sebastian.”

Sebastian frowned and snatched the headphones back.

“Where was _that_ when you showed me your music before?” Pedro demanded.

He shrugged, tapping his fingers against the wall. “Still growing.”

“That…” Pedro pointed vaguely towards the school. “THAT was amazing. It was unbelievable. You’re a punk, you know that?”

Sebastian did not seem affected by the statement. “Did I make the cut?”

Pedro pushed his hands through his hair. “I don’t know if Guy-Man or Thomas are going to like it. But, damn, I think I have to. Welcome to the family.”

He offered Sebastian his hand. Sebastian seemed vaguely offended by the gesture, but he took it nonetheless. His grip was a little tighter than Pedro expected.

“Now, being part of this group means you have to work _with_ us,” Pedro explained.

Sebastian stared. Pedro tried not to let it unnerve him. He set out explaining their project, and the rules.

“You’re part will come after Gaspard and Xavier,” he said. “Sound like something you can do?”

The boy nodded.

“Are you excited?” Pedro asked, feeling the need to get something out of Sebastian other than a nod.

He raised an eyebrow and continued nursing his cigarette, blowing smoke at his boots.

“Okay, you’re quiet,” Pedro mumbled. “Usually the quiet ones have a partner…”

“What?” Sebastian asked.

“Nothing,” Pedro held up his hands. “Do you have a preferred name? Like, my name is Pedro but—well okay my _name_ name is Pierre but I go by Pedro, and now I go by Busy P. And my friend is So Me even though his name is Bertrand and…”

Sebastian hadn’t moved, hadn’t shown an inch of emotion on his face. Pedro realized he was not quite like the others. Sebastian was there for music and music only. Pedro took a step away from the kid.

“Well we meet up in the computer labs a lot. To talk about stuff or to try out music on each other. If you want to get input…”

Sebastian nodded and reached for his headphones.

“I’ll talk to you later then…” Pedro ended lamely as Sebastian shut him out.

 

“It was weird,” Pedro was saying to Thomas and Guy-Man in the computer lab. He hung onto the back of his chair, spinning in circles. “He just kind of phased me out.”

Thomas shrugged. “Told you he was weird. He’s probably just not used to working with people.”

“Yeah…So Me,” Pedro said to Bertrand, seeing if his friend would respond. Bertrand made a noise from his station. His computer screen was a mess of colors everywhere.

“Hmm?”

“What are you working on?”

Bertrand shook his head and moved away from the document he had been tinkering with. He brought up something else, a little logo it looked like. Pedro scooted his chair over until he could make out the words _Head Bangers_ written in chunky text. It was fitted into the shape of a police badge. Pedro grinned.

“Head Bangers. I like it.”

“Who’s Ed Banger?” Thomas asked, with one headphone stuck to his ear.

“Not _Ed, Head_ ,” Bertrand was saying, but Pedro grabbed his shoulder.

“Ed Banger. I like that too.” Pedro said. “It’s like a French person trying to say Head Banger.”

“People are going to think Ed Banger is a person,” Bertrand said.

Pedro nodded. “But I like it.”

Bertrand laughed. “You _would_ like it.”

“Hey, so about tonight,” Thomas said, wheeling over. “I can’t go with you anymore. Sorry. But listen, this guy is kind of crazy. He goes by Kavinsky.”

“Kavinsky, I know him,” Feadz piped up from the other side of the room. “Yeah, didn’t he, like, die a while back?”

“Car accident,” Thomas said. “He was clinically dead for 30 seconds.”

Pedro frowned. “Who am I supposed to go with to see him?”

Thomas shrugged. “Take the new guy. It’ll be a bonding experience.”

“Oh. That’s great!” Pedro grinned. “We’ll investigate a new member, have some great conversation, and become close friends!”

“You’re starting to sound like a reality television show,” Xavier snapped from the other side of the room. “He’s not going to fall in love with you. Just get his music and be done.”

“Or maybe they’ll be friends,” Gaspard said gently. “Never know…”

Xavier huffed. Then he turned to Pedro. “You. Over here.”

Pedro rolled over to the Justice boys. Xavier forced headphones into Pedro’s ears without asking. At this point, Pedro had grown used to listening to things without warning. He just leaned back and let it happen. Just like at their show, he was assaulted by sound, but in the best way possible. They had such a distinct signature. This was mostly piano with some electronic emphasis. The song ended in about 45 seconds.

“It’s so short,” Pedro said.

Gaspard stuck his hands in his pockets. “Is it a good opening?”

“Yeah. But it needs to keep going.”

“I told you its good,” Xavier said and kept working. “You don’t ever believe me…”

“Just wanted a second opinion,” Gaspard mumbled.

“You guys will be fine,” Pedro said and stood up. “I guess I should head out if I’m going to make it over there before dark. Any idea where Sebastian hides out after class?”

“Check the smoker’s corner,” Thomas said.

“Uffie might know where he is,” Bertrand offered. “I’ve seen them together.”

“Thanks,” Pedro grabbed his coat and stepped outside. He grabbed his phone and gave Uffie a call. She answered on the 3rd ring.

“Speak.”

“Hey, any idea where I can find Sebastian?”

“He’s with me. We’re in the theater.”

And she hung up. Pedro pulled his jacket tighter around him. Fall was in full swing and the wind had an edge to it. The theater was across campus, down the hill and past one of the halls of classrooms. Next to the choir room. He pulled open the door to the lobby and shuffled inside. There were a couple studious kids in there doing their homework or waiting for parents to pick them up. The door to the actual theater was locked. It was always locked on Fridays. Unless, it seemed, you were Uffie.

Pedro knocked on the door.

“Were you followed?” a voice asked through the doors.

“Uh…no?” was his brilliant response. 

The door opened and Uffie pulled him inside. The room was mostly dark except for a few Christmas lights strung up along the aisles between the risers. It gave the room a ghostly kind of glow. There was also a light coming from the sound booth at the back of the room. And music. Strange pulsating hypnotic beats. Two others were already up there. Uffie headed for them.

The only way to get up to the booth was by a ladder and Uffie quickly climbed up. Pedro was close behind, pulling himself to see Sebastian sitting on the desk, smoking and another kid behind a massive retro computer. Uffie sat on a chair and reached for Sebastian’s cigarette, which he let her take from his lips. Then she put her feet up.

“Busy P, meet Mr. Oizo,” she said, waving at the 3rd boy.

Oizo gave Pedro a wave but seemed focused on his computer.

“He’s making something for me,” Uffie explained with a smile. “Then we’re going to a party.”

“Well I wanted to know if I could steal Sebastian…” Pedro started, pointing at him. “Do you want to come with me to meet someone? Thomas thinks he could be promising.”

Sebastian took his cigarette back from Uffie. “Not really.”

“Oh don’t be that way,” she said and leaned her feet against him. She kept nudging his shoulder with her boot. “Come on…”

Finally he kind of smiled and blew smoke to cover it up. Passing her the cigarette, he stood up and looked at Pedro.

“Yeah okay.”

Pedro grinned and clapped his hands together. “Excellent!”

 

As they drove through town, Sebastian kept his gaze on the window. He hadn’t spoken since Pedro had told him he couldn’t smoke in the car.

“So…have you ever been to the public school?”

“No,” Sebastian said.

Pedro nodded. “I heard it’s really crazy. They’re all about football and pep rallys and I don’t even know what.”

Sebastian nodded.

“Like, they have parties that get busted up by the cops at least once a week. And they don’t even listen to good music while doing it.”

They pulled up to the public school parking lot, kids still hanging around for buses. The student lot was about half full, but most of the kids had congregated around a brilliant red car towards the back. Pedro parked and the two of them headed over to the crowd. Sebastian already had a cigarette in his mouth when he got out of the car. He lit it as they walked over, shielding it from the crisp air.

The kids were in a circle, cheering on two others. It was a fight. One kid was built like a football player, wide shoulders and stocky frame. He looked like a bull about to charge. The other kid just so happened to have a red flag. In this case though, the flag was a jacket. A varsity jacket. He snapped it in front of the kid, a wild grin on his face.

“Come and get it,” he goaded the footballer on.

“Quit messing with me, Vincent. Give me the jacket back.”

The other one, Vincent, was tall but lanky. Not much meat on him, but he looked crazy as a loon.

“If you don’t want it that much then I’ll just…” he started to put his arms through the sleeves.

“Alright, that’s it,” the player said.

“Get him, Ryan,” a guy on the sides cheered.

Ryan advanced on Vincent, trying to grab at the jacket. Vincent ducked out of his grasp, hopping away and plucking at the lapels.

“Pretty sharp jacket. I think I’ll keep it.”

“To hell with that,” Ryan barked and took a swing.

Vincent slid out of the way and used Ryan’s own arm to propel him forward into the crowd. The crowd pushed Ryan back, right into Vincent. The two went down. Ryan straddled Vincent and reeled to take a punch. And then a shadow appeared behind him.

Ryan let out a roar and grabbed his face. Sebastian stepped back and lit a new cigarette, his previous one having left a pockmark on Ryan’s temple. As Ryan jumped up and prepared to tackle Sebastian to the ground, Vincent reared up behind him and pulled the guy’s tee shirt over his own face, then spun him around and sent him to the pavement.

Sebastian was back next to Pedro, smoking with his hands in his pockets.

“You just put your cigarette out on that kid’s face,” Pedro said, dumbfounded.

Sebastian shrugged. “I hate football.”

Vincent was loping over to them. He stepped up much too close to Sebastian. Pedro was starting to think the kid would lash out at Vincent too, but Seb just glanced over and kept on smoking, a little more furiously.

“That was great,” Vincent said. He held out a hand. “Call me Kavinsky.”

This was the guy Thomas had been talking about. Sebastian gestured to Pedro. Kavinksy turned slightly to the left and aimed his impending handshake at Pedro.

“Kavinsky,” he said again

Pedro shook his hand. “I’m Busy P. This is Sebastian.”

“Oh you guys sound pretty cool.” Then he threw his arms around both of them. “How’d you like to take a ride?”

“Uh, actually we’re here to talk to you,” Pedro said. “Thomas and Guy-Man sent us.”

Kavinsky took a breath, like he couldn’t quite place the names. Then his eyes lit up. “Ah yeah Guy! He’s helping me put something together actually. Are you sure you don’t want to talk in the testa?”

Kavinsky jerked his thumb back towards the red car. It was a damn nice car, but Pedro shook his head.

“No, we just wanted to see about your music. Whether you wanted to join our little group.”

Kavinksy nodded. “Yeah. I’ve always liked your guys’ school. Nice little private place. But they don’t want me over there. Too many…” he used air quotes. “ _Incidents_ on my record.”

Pedro glanced at Sebastian who appeared to be trying very hard not to look at Kavinsky.

“But I love music,” Kavinksy went on. “I’ve been tweaking with stuff for a while now. Got this really old system back home. Makes great stuff, but also makes everything sound like it came from 30 years ago.”

He shrugged. “Oh well. You take what you can get. What do you guys do?”

Pedro smiled. “I haven’t been doing too much music myself. Mostly consulting. But Sebastian did this amazing remix the other day.”

Kavinsky beamed. “Oh yeah? I’d love to hear your stuff.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Kavinsky answered enthusiastically. “I love hearing people’s work!”

Sebastian looked at Pedro for a minute before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his IPod. Then he put the headphones on Kavinsky and pressed play. Kavinsky was nodding his head and kind of bouncing and saying _yeah_ every couple of seconds. Pedro watched all this, feeling oddly like a 3 rd wheel.

Kavinsky pulled the headphones out. “Yeah man! This stuff.” He shook the headphones. “It’s great!” Then he grabbed Sebastian’s shoulders. “You have the darkness in you.”

“Not sure I’d call it that,” Sebastian said.

“I bet you’re a loner,” Kavinsky said. “People don’t really get you. You don’t like working with others. Which only begs the question, why did you join this collective?” he gestured at Pedro.

Sebastian shrugged. “You can’t get better without showing your work to people.”

Kavinsky leaned down to look Sebastian in the face. “Hmm…”

Sebastian blew smoke at the ground.

“Got an extra?” Kavinsky asked, hand hovering palm up between them.

Sebastian produced another cigarette for Kavinsky, who turned to Pedro. “I like what you guys are doing. But I’d feel weird joining a group at another school, you know? As much as I hate this place, I’m kind of indebted to them until I graduate. They haven’t kicked me out yet.”

Pedro nodded, not entirely sure if this was a loss or not. “Yeah I understand. But we can still share music, if you want an extra pair of ears on something.”

“Ah yeah yeah. You know, if you want to leave the kid here with me, I can take him home. Wouldn’t mind asking him a few more questions,” Kavinsky said.

Pedro looked at Sebastian. “Up to you.”

Seb shrugged. “Sure whatever.”

“Great,” Kavinksy threw an arm around him. “I owe you a cigarette anyway.”

He began to lead Sebastian away, rambling on about driving down to an old park and getting milkshakes or something. Pedro waited until they were inside the testarossa before driving away. He sent Thomas a text message. _No go on Kavinksy._ He sighed sitting in the driver’s seat. If anything, he had probably dodged a bullet. Kavinsky didn’t exactly seem the reliable type. But something about the whole situation didn’t sit right with him.

 

Two weeks later, there were vocals and a little extra spice on the track. The Justice boys were getting ready to remix. Pedro hadn’t so much as seen Sebastian let alone spoken with him. Uffie gave him updates from time to time, an empty promise that he was working.

He tried not to let it bother him. There was a new prospect to deal with. Unfortunately, the only time Pedro could meet with him was the ten minutes between the end of school and the start of track practice.

Thibaut Berland wore blue high waisted running shorts and a white tee shirt in the locker room. He was tying his shoes on the bench as Pedro explained the project.

“I like it,” Thibaut said. “Does that mean I have to show you music?”

Pedro smiled. “Yeah. If you have anything, you can send it to me in an email.”

The boy nodded. “I’ll try my best. I’ve only been messing around with this stuff.”

“It’s okay, we’re all still figuring this stuff out,” Pedro assured him. “What’s your sound like?”

Thibaut made a face of indecision. “It’s uh…it’s retro.”

“Great,” Pedro put on a smile, but it felt fake even to him.

Then Thibaut jogged out of the room with 15 other runners, breezing by Pedro and Bertrand.

“Things are getting pretty big,” Bertrand said when they were alone again.

Pedro nodded.

“Are you okay with that?” his friend asked.

Pedro took a seat on a skinny bench that ran the length of the lockers, sighing into his hands. “It’s a lot to handle. Am I crazy?”

“Definitely,” Bertrand said, sitting back to back with Pedro. “But I think you’re doing something good, if that counts for anything.”

The boys sat back to back with their heads touching for a minute.

“It counts for a lot,” Pedro said. “Hey, do I still look sad?”

“Yeah,” Bertrand answered. “But maybe a little less often.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me,” Pedro said.

“I don’t,” Bertrand told him. “Well…not for the same reasons anyway.”

Pedro laughed quietly. It was all he could do to stave off the bite of sadness.

“Bertrand,” Pedro said. He felt like there was a hole in his chest and it was expanding around himself.

“Yeah?” Bertrand said and Pedro knew he could tell him. But he didn’t know if he could put it into words. And then a swarm of guys poured into the locker room and the silence was broken. Pedro let it go.

 

Pedro almost missed the email that night. It was not a school address. It claimed to be from someone named Breakbot. It took Pedro far too long to realize Thibaut had come through. There was still nothing from Sebastian.

The email contained only one track to listen to. As Pedro put his headphones on, he almost didn’t want to hear it. Part of him was too tired for this. But his hands moved ahead of him and pressed play.

He didn’t regret it. The music was fresh. It smiled. It worked its way through him, lifting him out of his chair. He sent the word out to the others.

_Meeting soon. New member._

 

They couldn’t all get together immediately, so Pedro had a few restless days to kill. The track was coming along nicely. It was a strangely beautiful creature, still waiting for the finishing touches. But it made him smile to know that he was helping people make something.

One night, Pedro was stranded with no homework and no one to take the boredom away. So he got into his car and drove into town. _The arcade_ Uffie had said. It had a parking lot attached to it, where Pedro parked. So Me’s work was immediately apparent. On the side of the building was a large mess of colors, mostly pink and orange. There were people and places and objects layered together. It was somewhere between a comic and a collage. In the middle of all the chaos were the words _I’m losing my mind_.

Pedro walked up to the mural and placed his hand onto it. The wall was cool to the touch. How long had this been inside of his friend, without him ever knowing? Bertrand could paint an entire wall with his own work. What had Pedro to show? Nothing. Not yet.

He drove home that night and pulled up an old file on his computer, one he hadn’t looked at in months. His music.

 

It was impressive to see everyone in the same space. Nearly everyone that is. Sebastian was still MIA.

Breakbot stood in the middle of the room in his track uniform, Pedro smiling next to him.

“Hey everyone, I’d like you all to meet our newest member. This is Breakbot. He’s pretty cool.”

Breakbot waved sheepishly.

“I was thinking maybe soon we could take a group picture,” Pedro said as Breakbot took a seat. “You know, almost like we were a club or something.”

Guy-Man huffed and waved his hand through the air.

Thomas nodded. “Guy’s right, P. This isn’t a club. It’s more like an artist collective.”

“It’s a pain in my ass,” Xavier said. “But it is pretty cool…”

“Nah, it’s our extracurricular,” Feadz offered. “Man I got out of doing sports by telling my advisor about this.”

Pedro smiled. “Well, whatever we happen to be, So Me has something to show you guys.”

Bertrand got up to turn the projector on so that the back wall was illuminated by an image. It was their logo. The words Ed Banger fitted into a police badge, and a banner below that read _To Protect and Entertain_.

“I think we should all have our own little symbols,” he said. “And I’d like to get a picture of everyone individually, so I can really match words to faces. I have my camera…if anyone wants to do it now.”

He pulled the camera out of his backpack and held it up. Uffie smiled and stood up. “Ladies first. Where’s Xavier.”

Xavier held up his middle finger at her. She laughed but moved in front of the white wall at the back of the room. She leaned back, looking perfectly comfortable. Bertrand stepped up and took a few pictures and then gave her the thumbs up.

“Thomas, Guy-Man, do you want to go next?” He asked the boys.

They shook their heads.

“Sorry,” Thomas said. “We don’t do pictures…”

“Oh…” Bertrand sighed. “Anyone else?”

Feadz jumped up and put his massive baseball cap on. Just then, the door to the room burst open. Pedro turned, hoping to see Sebastian finally. Instead, he was shocked to find Kavinsky leaning breathlessly into the room.

“HEY!” he called, first smiling at Pedro, and then turning to Thomas and Guy-Man.

Thomas returned the call and Kavinsky jogged over to him to give him a hand shake. Then he hugged Guy-Man.

“What are you doing here?” Thomas asked.

“Oh, you know, a little bit of this, little bit of that,” Kavinsky answered. “Did you get my track?”

Guy-Man nodded.

“It’s really shaping up, Kav,” Thomas said.

Kavinsky fist pumped.

“Hey,” Pedro said. “Is Sebastian with you?”

Kavinsky turned to look at him. “No. Not right now. But he told me to tell you that he’s definitely doing stuff.”

“Does he ever plan on coming back here?” Pedro asked, trying to hide his annoyance.

Kavinsky shrugged. “Dunno. He’s doing his thing. Hey, are you busy right now? Let’s get something to eat. I’ll buy.”

Pedro started to decline, when Kavinsky came up to him and put his hands on Pedro’s face. “Come on. Free food.”

Pedro glanced at Bertrand who was trying not to laugh. Bertrand gave him a wave, telling him it was okay.

“Yeah alright,” Pedro said.

 

Ten minutes later they were parked outside of the Dairy Barn. Kavinsky strolled up to the window in his stolen varsity jacket and ordered cheese fries and two milkshakes, one chocolate and one vanilla. Pedro was still trying to get out of the car when Kavinksy came back.

“You okay?” Kav asked.

Pedro gaped at him. “I don’t think you went under 80 miles an hour that whole drive.”

Kavinsky smiled. “I know these roads like the back of my hand. Cops never come out here. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worried about cops,” Pedro said.

Kavinsky opened the door for him. “Food will calm you down. Come and eat. But over there. No food in the testa.”

With shaking legs, Pedro followed Kavinsky to a table. The Dairy Barn got its name due to the fact that it was located inside of an old barn. They got a table right inside the place, with a view of the road and the field on the other side. Kavinsky watched Pedro take a seat, and offered him first choice of milkshake. Pedro took the chocolate.

“You know Oizo?” Kavinsky asked. Pedro nodded. “He actually gave me my computer, the one I write music on.”

Pedro smiled. “Yeah?”

Kavinsky nodded through a sip of milkshake. “Yeah it’s total piece of shit but it’s great. I love it. You should get Oizo in your collective. He’s amazing. Little weirdo, but he’s great.”

“I think we’re all weirdos,” Pedro said.

Kavinsky laughed. “Sorry I couldn’t be in your thing. I would love to be a part of it. Truth is, I’m the lead in the play at school and it eats your time, you know? And I’m graduating this year so its not like I could just join next year.”

“What play?” Pedro asked.

“Don’t laugh,” Kavinsky said, pointing his milkshake at him.

Pedro shook his head. “No I wont.”

“Don’t laugh,” he said again, to be sure. Then he leaned forward. “ _A Streetcar Name Desire_.”

“Seriously?” Pedro asked. “They’re letting you do that at public school?”

Kavinsky nodded, clearly proud. “It was my doing. I was on their shit for _months_ last year until they let us put it on.”

“Wow,” Pedro said. “I’m impressed.”

“Oh yeah. I mean, they made us edit it a little but still,” Kavinksy nodded. “You all should come watch it. Get Seb to come with you. It’s not easy to watch but its damn good.”

“Are you a good actor?” Pedro asked.

Kavinsky threw his hands up. “Why don’t you ask…” then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a piece of paper. “My full ride to college?”

“Do you carry that around with you?” Pedro laughed. “That’s kind of weird.”

Kavinsky gave him a wounded look and stroked the piece of paper. “This is my future, man. Don’t make fun.”

“Sorry,” Pedro said and he meant it. Something about this strange guy was melting a bit of the ice in his chest. “That’s really great. Wouldn’t have pegged you for an actor.”

“Yeah, it’s cool. But I also love music. Which is why I think we should be friends. And I’m sorry if I’ve been keeping Seb away. He is…” Kavinsky let out a small indecision laugh. “He is difficult. But we connect, you know? When you find those connections, you just can’t throw them away.”

Pedro nodded. He knew all too well about that kind of connection. And how badly it could hurt to lose it.

“Did I make you sad?” Kavinsky asked. “Eat more dairy! It’s good for the soul.”

He picked up a French fry and tried to feed it to Pedro who couldn’t help but laugh. He wound up with a cheese mustache and, he realized, a bond that wouldn’t break so easily.

 

Pedro, Bertrand, Oizo, and Uffie sat in the basement of Thomas’s house. His parents were, unsurprisingly, out of town. Pedro wasn’t convinced he had parents, or that he was human. But he was glad to be down there with his friends.

“Alright, we had you come out here to listen to some stuff,” Thomas explained as Guy-Man set something up on his computer. “But the speakers at school are weak compared to these.”

He patted some speakers at his feet.

“You know I was pleasantly surprised to find out that you didn’t live in the computer lab at school,” Uffie said with a smile.

Thomas laughed. “Actually we’re just paying the people who live here to let us use their basement.”

“And yet you pay me nothing,” Pedro said, throwing his hands up. “I feel gipped.”

Guy-Man turned and beckoned him closer. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a penny.

“Thanks…this is…just amazing,” Pedro said and hugged Guy-Man.

“Don’t mock,” Thomas said. “It’s a meaningful coin.”

“You found it today didn’t you? Probably in a puddle or something.”

Guy-Man winked at him.

Thomas waved him away. “Now take a seat and open your ears.”

They all crowded onto a tiny couch and wound up with Uffie lying across the three boys. Guy-Man dramatically raised his hand up and then pressed play.

What started was a steady synth heavy and bass guided beat that got all them tapping their feet. Pedro was nodding his head. Then the vocals started. They were simple, distorted lines, like someone speaking through a megaphone. Thomas had his hands up in the air again, dancing. Everyone once in a while he’d lean down and turn the volume up and down again, making it feel like the sound was washing over them and then draining away and rushing right back. Guy-Man wasn’t exactly dancing, but he was feeling the music, that much was clear.

When the song was nearing the end, Uffie was clapping. “That was crazy!”

Mr. Oizo cleared his throat and put on a stuffy British accent. “I say, you two have gone positively daft.”

Pedro was cheering. “Yeah! This is what I’m talking about. You guys are really onto something.”

“Makes me want to draw,” Bertrand said. He was drumming his fingers on Uffie’s legs.

The girl squeaked and jumped off the couch. “More more more!”

The daft boys grinned.

 

 

It was three days later that Pedro saw Sebastian. He was with Uffie, smoking in the back of the building, just as the text from Xavier confirmed. The whole situation bothered him beyond words. He knew Sebastian had a phone, and yet Uffie had to be the one to tell him where he was. Bertrand tagged lazily behind Pedro as he stormed through the cloud of smoke.

“Sebastian can we talk?” Pedro asked, waving his hand to clear the air.

Sebastian sighed and kicked off the building. They stepped a couple feet away from everyone else.

“Listen if you don’t want to do this—”

“When did I say that?” Sebastian asked.

“You didn’t. Because you haven’t _said anything_ ,” Pedro drew out the last words, his frustration building. “How the hell am I supposed to include you when all you do is stone wall me?”

Sebastian wasn’t even looking at him. He just ashed his cigarette onto the pavement. “I’m not asking you to include me. I just want to do my work.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Pedro heard his own voice rising, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Sebastian sharpened his gaze, directing it at him like a knife point. “You told me yourself you didn’t understand what this was. Who the hell are you to tell me I’m doing it wrong. Just because I don’t check in with you every five seconds—”

“No, no, no,” Pedro reared back, like a snake about to spit. “We’ve had several meetings. We email each other. We text each other. We even hang out outside of school. But you? I don’t even see you here. It’s like you’re on some other planet. I don’t understand why you joined us if you were so determined to reject me at every turn. Do you like being miserable? Because if that’s how you’re going to play it, you don’t belong with us.”

He straightened up, only feeling the weight of his words as they settled between them like shards of broken glass. Sebastian said nothing for a couple seconds, still staring up at Pedro. Then he took a sharp drag and shook his head.

“No. I don’t like it.”

Then he walked off.

It took Pedro a moment to realize what question he was even answering. _He doesn’t like being miserable_. Pedro ran his hands through his hair. When he turned away, Uffie was there, lighting her cigarette.

“That was on you,” she said.

He felt someone leaning against his back. Bertrand let out a sigh.

“Have fun fixing that one.”

 

Uffie leaned against the wall in the sound booth, watching Mr. Oizo by the light of the computer. He was working pretty furiously, switching between what appeared to be the scraps of a song, the threads of some kind of movie script, and possibly some kind of video. He turned and gave her a look.

“What are you brooding about?” he asked.

She blew smoke at his face. “My friends are idiots.”

He turned back to the screen. “Maybe you should do something about it.”

“Or maybe I should just leave,” she said, looking up at the ceiling.

He laughed. “No way. You still have work to do.”

“Yeah, what do _you_ know?” then she put her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Maybe I’ll stick around for a while. But you’re coming with me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Speaking of, how’d you like to sing for this track?”

He pressed play. Uffie smiled. “It’s just my size.”

 

Bertrand looked through his camera lens at Xavier’s face, who tried to wave the camera out of existence.

“Get it away,” he said.

Gaspard laughed, leaning against the back windshield of his car, legs hanging off the bumper.

“You should really get used to it,” Bertrand said and turned his lens to the road instead. “You guys are going to make a name for yourself.”

“We already have a name,” Xavier said.

Bertrand smiled, but it was covered by his camera. Across the street from the school grounds was a forest. Something was lurking at the edges.

“Unless Busy P is going to make us all get nicknames,” Xavier said and hopped onto the bumper next to Gaspard.

“How about Xav Xav?” Gaspard asked.

Xavier threatened to punch his companion.

“I’ll just call you both Xavpard,” Bertrand said.

“Gassier?” Gaspard offered with a laugh.

Even Xavier had to laugh at that. “No no it’s Gaviard. Get it right.”

“I like Busy P,” Gaspard went on. “He’s a good leader. Even if he is a little…”

“A little what?” Bertrand asked, not moving, waiting to see what might emerge from the tree line.

“Sometimes when he talks about us, about the music, he gets this look in his eye. Like it’s the only thing that matters,” Gaspard said and Bertrand knew he was trying to be nice, so as not to offend him.

“It’s called the crazy eye,” Xavier explained. Then he looked at Bertrand and lifted a foot to nudge his side. “Why’s he so crazy?”

“He wasn’t always,” Bertrand said. The thing had moved, startled by a car, but now it was creeping back. He swore he could see a reflective eye.

“So what happened to him?” Xavier asked.

Gaspard put a hand on Xavier’s arm. “If you don’t mind telling us.”

Bertrand knelt down, and turned the angle of the camera.

“We used to have this friend…He was kind of the best.”

He pulled the camera closer to his face, but it didn’t stop the view from skewing. It wasn’t the lens that was filling up with water.

“It was almost as if there was some kind of magic in him. Like, when he was around, we just couldn’t be down. Everything was up. Always. There were things to do and nothing got boring. And he loved music. He made us love music.”

Bertrand’s hands were shaking so that when the deer finally stepped into view, he couldn’t bring himself to take the picture.

“He got sick,” Bertrand said and then his voice failed him.

He heard shoes hitting the ground and the boys were on either side of him, leaning against him. The pressure was just enough to hold him together.

 

Kavinsky put his feet up on his desk and glanced at the boy on the other side of the room.

“What do you want to do?” he asked.

Sebastian shrugged. He’d had the same cigarette in his mouth since he’d gotten there hours ago. The house was fairly dull except for the echoes of the television below. Kavinsky sighed and reached for his keys.

“Come on.” He stood up and put his jacket on. Sebastian didn’t seem too keen on moving anytime soon. His gaze remained on the same speck of carpet.

 Kavinsky leaned on the wall next to him. “Seb.”

Sebastian finally looked at him.

“I’m leaving. Do you want to come with me or stay here and have another fascinating debate with my father about fishing?”

“That’s not fair,” Sebastian said, glaring at him.

Kavinsky raised his hand up. “Who snuck onto a bus and walked to my house from the stop? It wasn’t me. I guess I’ll see you later.”

He stepped towards the door.

“Kav,” Sebastian growled and finally walked after him. They thundered down the steps into the living room.

“Vincent?” Kavinsky’s father stared at him from a recliner. “When did your friend get here?”

Kav shrugged. “Dunno. Couple hours ago. We’re going out.”

“It’s 8 o’clock on a school night.”

“Be back later,” Kavinsky shouted as he opened the door for Sebastian.

“You can’t keep doing this,” his dad yelled back, but Kavinsky closed the door on that argument. 

The testarossa took a few minutes to warm up. They were miles away by the time it was comfortable. Seb pulled his legs up onto the seat.

“No shoes on the leather,” Kav said without even looking.

Seb rolled his eyes and made a show of stomping both his feet back onto the ground.

“Hey hey,” Kav put a loving hand on the dashboard and stroked the car. “You treat her well, and she treats _you_ well. That’s how this works.”

Sebastian sighed. “Did Busy P talk to you?”

“What?” Kav looked at him as they flew by a gas station. Buildings were getting less and less frequent as the minutes ticked by.

“We kind of had a fight…” Seb mumbled. “He pretty much just yelled at me for a while.”

“Were you being an asshole?” Kav asked. “I’m surprised he put up with you for this long.”

“Now who’s an asshole,” Seb snapped and turned to the window.

The car was silent for a minute. Forests had filled in the place of suburbs and Kavinsky pulled down a weathered old road. They were climbing a hill. The trees cleared and Kavinsky parked the car on the side of the road. They were on a stretch of land that had been cleared for massive telephone poles.

“He really rattled you huh?” Kav asked. “What did he say to you?”

Sebastian leaned his head against the window. “It wasn’t what he said…it’s because he’s right. I am miserable. I don’t deserve to be. But neither does he.”

Kavinsky opened his door. “Come on.”

Sebastian followed him this time without question. They wound up sitting on the hood of the testarossa, staring down the hill they had parked on. The clearing they sat in was like a vein cut through the forest. It trailed all the way through the woods and back into town where it disappeared among the lights of suburbia.

“Did you ever think he was just—”

“Don’t,” Sebastian cut off Kavinsky. “Don’t say he was yelling at me because he was concerned about me. He barely knows me. I made sure of it.”

Kavinsky leaned back with his hands behind his head. “You really are an asshole.”

Sebastian punched him in the shoulder.

“Ow,” Kav glared at him. “You know why we’re friends? Because I was too loud for you to say no too.”

Kav poked him in the shoulder. “What are you going to do when nice people want to be your friend too? You just going to hide behind a cigarette forever? Busy P and all of them can help you. Not just your music you self-centered bastard. Help _you_. You should be honored man.”

Kavinsky was staring up through the wires at the sky. Sebastian was staring at him. It lasted like this for a while until Sebastian laid down beside his friend.

“I hate you sometimes,” he said.

Kavinsky laughed.

“But I mostly don’t,” he added.

Kavinksy threw his arm around Seb’s shoulder. A few minutes ticked by and Sebastian’s phone went off.

“What is it?” Kav asked.

“Uffie,” Sebastian said. “She said Busy P’s looking for me. Wants to patch things up.”

“Maybe you should take him up on it.”

Sebastian sighed and pocketed his phone. He wasn’t ready to respond. Kavinsky threw his free hand up and pointed at the stars.

“Yo Seb,” he said. “Found a constellation.”

“I don’t see anything,” Sebastian said, squinting at the sky.

Kav outlined a couple pinpricks of light with his finger. “If you look closely enough…and broaden your mind…it looks like…a big dick.”

“I’m actually going to kill you,” Sebastian muttered as he slid off the car and shuffled back inside. Kavinsky’s laughter echoed through the trees.

 

Thomas and Guy-Man sat outside the dean of student’s office, clutching a flier between them. When the door opened, they both jumped up. The Dean gave them a dubious look before inviting them inside.

“Boys, I don’t think I’ve ever had a formal chat with you before,” the dean said.

“We keep our noses clean, sir,” Thomas said.

“Then why, may I ask, are you here?” The dean asked.

Thomas and Guy-Man exchanged glances.

“We have a proposal for you sir,” Thomas said. Guy-Man handed him the flier. “You see…one of your students is kind of a genius. We want everyone to know about it.”

The dean studied the paper and reached reflexively for his glasses. His lips curved and he gave an appreciative nod.

 

Pedro had been splayed out on a computer chair for the last 15 minutes, head hanging off the back, arms slack at his sides. Breakbot leaned over and gently poked his arm. Pedro’s eyes fluttered open.

“Sorry…”

“It’s okay,” Breakbot said. “I just wanted to make sure you were still alive.”

“Thanks,” Pedro gave him a weak smile. “Just didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Maybe you should go home and get some sleep?” Breakbot offered.

“I don’t know, someone might need me.”

A chair furiously spun around. Xavier was glaring daggers at him.

“Get. Some. Sleep,” the boy said.

“It’s what you need,” Gaspard added.

“But...I mean what—”

This time everyone in the room turned to look at him.

“Busy P go to bed!” they shouted.

“But I need to give So Me a ride,” he contested.

“So Me can get a ride with any number of people,” Bertrand said, reaching over and grabbing his shoulder without looking away from the computer. “You need rest.”

Then he looked at Pedro, who gave a quiet laugh. “Yes mum.”

Bertrand nodded. Then he reached forward and gave Pedro a hug.

“It’ll be fine, P. He’ll come around.”

He sighed and returned the hug. The next thing he knew, arms were surrounding him from all sides. Everyone was there. Except the ones that really mattered. The ones he couldn’t get back. Just as the old ache welled up inside him, Uffie leaned down and kissed his head.

“I never said thanks,” she told him.

“Thanks for what?” he asked, feeling his chest tighten.

She smiled. “For taking me in.” Then she put her hands on the edges of his face. “Now let’s see a smile.”

Everyone let go and stepped around to see his face. They all smiled at him, as if to provide an example. Now when he smiled back, it was real. That’s when Thomas and Guy-Man made their announcement.

“Lady and Gentlemen,” Thomas said, giving Uffie a wink. “We are proud to announce the date of our very first show.”

“Show?” Pedro echoed, mouth not quite able to close.

The two of them were both smiling at him. Bertrand still had an arm around his shoulder and his friend squeezed him.

“Ed Banger presents: an evening of entertainment for the student body and anyone who wants to come because we don’t discriminate.”

He motioned to Bertrand, who set up the projector again. This time there was a colorful flier displayed. A flier for a concert for all of them to perform at. There were drawings of a bunch of their faces, and logos for some of them too. It was amazing. And right in the middle it read _Hosted by Busy P_.

“Hosted?” he asked, pointing. “I’m a host now?”

“Who else is going to do it?” Xavier asked. “You’re the only one who can stand us all.”

Pedro couldn’t help but grin. He asked them to print one of the fliers out for him. Shortly after, they kicked him out on the pretense that he needed to get rest. He put the flier up on his bedroom wall, next to the picture of his old best friend. Somehow it felt right.

That night, he slept.

 

The next day, he was floating through campus on a cloud. It dawned on him that he had a lot of planning to do. The boys had secured the gymnasium for the event but that was about it. Pedro had to get everything organized. The song was coming alone nicely, he knew that much, but now everyone needed to be able to put something on separately. He also needed to put something on himself. He was no longer going to get by managing everyone else. He was going to have to perform with them. The notion both excited and nauseated him.

Feadz and Uffie had given him a track. Justice already had a lot of solo work, but they also had decided to collaborate with Uffie. She and Mr. Oizo were also purportedly working on something. Somehow she had become the busiest member of the group. Not to mention she was in contact with Sebastian. And yet, _she_ had thanked _him_. Pedro shook his head at the thought. She’d certainly gotten it backwards. He should be thanking all of them.

He was heading to class, mentally ordering a set list. The world was only just starting to come back into focus when Sebastian appeared in front of him. And he didn’t look good.

“Kav is gone,” he said.

Pedro blinked fantasies of concerts out of his eyes. “Gone?”

“Gone,” Seb said again. “I was on the phone with him and then it just went dead and now his phone is dead and I can’t get it out of my head.”

He had his hands pressed to his temples, as if he wanted to push the pieces back together.

Pedro put a hand on his shoulder. “Get what out of your head?”

Sebastian looked at him with wild eyes. “I think I heard him crash.”

“What?” Pedro’s heart kicked into gear. “You think he got into an accident?”

“I don’t know,” Sebastian shouted at him. “He was going too fast, I know that much. Kept saying if he kept it up he was going to disappear. I told him he wasn’t allowed to do that, because what the hell would I do, and he laughed. He laughed at me and then…”

His eyes started to go foggy. Pedro shook him a little, and he refocused.

“Sebastian, where was he?” Pedro asked.

“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “He could be anywhere. He said he just wanted to get away for a while.”

“How long has he been gone for?” Pedro felt a horrible sickness rising up inside him. Something he hadn’t felt in months. Like the ground was crumbling beneath his feet. Like he’d never stand steady again. Not again, not again, not again.

Sebastian was shaking his head. Pedro grabbed him and got in his face.

“How long has he been gone for?” he repeated slowly.

“He left on Tuesday. Had a fight with his dad.”

“It’s Thursday, Sebastian. Where was he going?”

“I don’t know…” he said. “Maybe his dad knows.”

“Let’s go right now,” Pedro said and lead Sebastian towards his car.

“His dad doesn’t like me,” Sebastian said, but didn’t put up much of a fight as Pedro shepherded him into the passenger seat.

“I don’t care,” Pedro said. “We need to find him.”

As they drove towards Kavinsky’s house, Pedro called everyone to tell them. No one seemed to know where he could have gotten himself too. Except Thomas who said that Guy-Man told him that Kav always wanted to see the Pacific coast. Which didn’t help at all. When they got there, the testa was parked in the driveway and Pedro thought for a fleeting moment that Kavinsky was going to be inside, drinking milk and laughing at them. But when they knocked on the door, his dad answered and he looked worse than Sebastian.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked Pedro.

“I’m friends with your son,” Pedro said. “We were wondering if you knew where he was.”

That’s when he saw Sebastian. He pointed his finger at him. “You. You’re the reason he’s gone. I’m not telling you anything.”

Sebastian stared up at Kavinsky’s dad, his face frighteningly blank. In the next instant, Pedro swore he could _see_ the strings snapping inside him. He ripped open the screen door that separated them.

“You stupid old man,” he shouted. Then he started swinging at the guy. Kav’s dad just backed up until he hit the wall, probably too shocked to fight back. Pedro ran in after him, trying to restrain Sebastian before he made a huge mistake. Or a bigger one than this anyway. He barely managed to get Seb out of punching range.

“He left because of you!” Sebastian shouted. “You think just because he doesn’t want to do the shit you did in high school that he’s broken! Well he’s better than you ever could be. He’s fucking talented. What are you, besides angry and bitter? You’re nothing.”

Sebastian took a deep breath and Pedro let him go, probably almost as shocked as Kav’s dad. He’d never heard Sebastian talk like that. He didn’t even know he felt anything as deep as that.

“Tell me where he is,” Sebastian said. “So I can help him. Because I’m his friend.”

Kavinsky’s dad held up his hands. He was also tall, like Kav, and a bit wiry. His hair was entirely grey despite the fact that he couldn’t be more than 40. He really did look like an old man.

“I got a call before you boys showed up,” he said. “He’s in a hospital ‘bout two hours away.”

“Only two hours?” Sebastian asked.

His dad nodded. “I guess he couldn’t get that far after all…”

Then Sebastian turned and left the house. Pedro walked up to Kavinsky’s dad and shook his hand.

“I’m sorry about him. And everything.” Pedro didn’t know what else to say.

His dad straightened up. “He was right. I am a stupid old man.” He rubbed his forehead then. “I took his keys. Thought it would ground him here for a while, so he could get his head on straight. I should have known better than to mess with his car. He stole my keys in the middle of the night and then he was gone.”

“Do you need a ride over?” Pedro asked.

He shook his head. “I’ll get there. Certainly not going to drive the testa. He’d never recover from that.”

Pedro managed a smile. “Then I guess we’ll see you there.”

After getting the address to the hospital, the boys got back into the car and drove. Pedro got Seb to text the others to let them know. Pedro had never seen him so focused before. When it was all done, Sebastian became very quiet. Pedro kept glancing over at him.

“Do you want to listen to some music?” Pedro asked him.

Sebastian seemed to spark back to life for a moment and he reached into his own pocket and plugged his IPod into the car’s speakers. What played was a delightfully 80’s sounding song with a fantastic auto tuned voice and a tedious attention to detail.

“Is this yours?” Pedro asked.

Seb shook his head. “It’s Kavinsky’s. He’s been working on it for two years he told me. Such a god damn perfectionist. Guy-Man helped him a lot actually. It’s called Nightcall. I keep trying to remix it but I can’t. Never sounds any better.”

Pedro reached over and put his arm around Sebastian’s shoulders.

“Sometimes things are just right the way they are.”

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian said the words quickly and quietly. But Pedro heard him clearly.

“I’m sorry too,” he said.

 

The atmosphere for the rest of the car ride was comfortably silent. But as they drew closer to their destination, Sebastian kept tapping his feet on the ground and he was clearly dying for a cigarette. Pedro actually caved and let him smoke in the car, with the windows open of course.

When they got there, they were very quiet. For some reason being in the hospital made them both feel the need to whisper.

“We’re here for Vincent Belorgey,” Sebastian said. It was weird to hear Kavinsky’s full name. The woman nodded.

“And are you family?” she asked. She had a friendly smile and pretty coffee colored skin. The scrubs she wore had little polka dots on them. Sebastian looked like he wanted to punch her too.

“I’m sorry?” Pedro asked. “Did we come at the wrong time? It’s just that we drove like two hours to see him.”

She frowned. “Right now it’s family only visiting hours.”

Sebastian grabbed Pedro’s shirt and bunched it up in his fist. Pedro was preparing himself to hold him back again. Then Seb took a breath through his teeth.

“I’m his boyfriend,” his voice kind of broke on that word. “Can I please see him?”

Pedro watched the nurse’s heart melt in front of his eyes. It was incredible.

“Oh you poor baby,” she said and leaned a little closer. “I’m not technically allowed to let you through, but we’ll just say he has very concerned cousins coming to see him.”

Then she winked at Seb and wrote some things down on a sheet on paper. Sebastian was gripping Pedro’s shirt so tightly Pedro thought he might rip the material.

“How is he?” Pedro asked.

“Some broken bones,” she said. “He had a pretty bad concussion and he’s not conscious right now, so if you’re hoping to talk to him I’m afraid you won’t get much out of him. All we can do now is wait until he comes back around and take care of him in the meantime.”

“He’s in room 204,” she said and gestured to the elevator. “You sweet little thing.”

Sebastian started to stalk off, but stopped and turned around and walked back to the nurse station.

“Thank you.” Then he turned back.

Pedro followed numbly after. When they were alone in the elevator, Pedro cleared his throat, not sure how to breech the subject.

“You tell anyone and I’ll kill you,” Sebastian said.

Pedro looked at him, at the way he was staring at the floor. His hand was hovering over his pocket, feeling the outline of the box of cigarettes Pedro knew was in there. Things started to make sense.

“You know I’m happy for you, right?” he said quietly.

The elevator made a popping noise and the doors rolled open. Sebastian walked away from him and his statement. They found room 204 pretty quickly. It was one of the larger rooms with curtains separating the beds. Kav was laid up at the end of the room, with a majestic view of the parking lot.

Pedro walked right up to his friend whose eyes were closed. The volume of bandaging and wires sticking out of his skin looked like someone tried to sew something into him. Pedro turned to gauge Seb’s reaction, but he hadn’t stepped further from the curtain.

“You okay?” Pedro asked.

“Am I okay?” Sebastian asked, that craziness slipping back into his voice. Then he pointed at Kavinsky. “He looks like a god damn Christmas tree!”

“You know he might be able to hear you,” Pedro said and smiled. “I don’t think that’s what he’d want to hear.”

Sebastian stepped over to the hospital bed. Pedro moved out of his way, feeling definitely like the 3rd wheel, but when one of the other wheels was unconscious, things were a little different. He wanted to touch Seb’s back, to let him know that he was still with him, but he stayed back anyway, afraid to get in the middle.

Seb leaned over the side of the bed, getting real close to Kavinsky’s face and Pedro thought maybe he should leave, when Sebastian grabbed Kav’s jaw in his hands.

“Wake up you dumb bastard,” he growled. “Wake up so I can kill you myself!”

Pedro grabbed Sebastian’s arm. “Whoa there, that’s not what I had in mind.”

He pulled Sebastian away who let his head lull against Pedro’s arm.

“God damn him,” he said. “Why is he so crazy?”

Pedro sighed. “He’s crazy enough to like you.”

Sebastian punched him in the arm. Then he straightened up. “I need air.”

They left the room and stepped back into the elevator.

“Hey,” Pedro said.

Seb was tapping his foot against the ground and chewing on his thumbnail.

“He’s going to be fine.”

When the doors opened, Sebastian made a bee line for the front doors. As soon as they slid open he had a cigarette in his mouth. He reached into his pockets but his hands came up empty. Then he tapped his shirt and his back pockets and spun around in circle before asking Pedro if he had a light.

“Sorry, you know I don’t smoke,” Pedro said.

Sebastian leaned over, putting his hands on his knees. He was trying to take deep breaths but it wasn’t working. When Pedro tried to help him up, he shooed him back and hobbled away from the entrance to the hospital. He made it to the sidewalk on the other side of the building before he knelt down onto the ground and then just kind of rolled onto his back.

His eyes were on the stars. Pedro sat on the ground by his head and put a hand on his shoulder. Sebastian didn’t react, but Pedro was beginning to understand that it wasn’t a reaction one sought in Sebastian. It was something a little subtler. Like being the one he finds when something is wrong. It was enough.

Headlights appeared in front of them. Pedro covered his eyes as an old VW bus rolled into the lot and parked a few spots down from them. Sebastian still had his eyes closed. The side door slid open and the remainder of Ed Banger poured out of the back. Uffie, Feadz, Justice, Thomas and Guy-Man, and even Oizo. Breakbot stepped out of the driver’s seat, in that damn track uniform. Bertrand was in the passenger seat.

“Sorry we’re late,” he said.

They all walked over to the sidewalk.

“You look like you need a light,” Uffie said.

Sebastian opened his eyes to about 7 lighters hovering over his face. He ran his hands though his hair and held up his cigarette. Everyone pressed the flames closer until it was one big fire ball. Sebastian breathed in deep.

“How is he?” Thomas asked, taking a seat on the curb.

“He looks like shit,” Seb said.

“He’s unconscious,” Pedro filled in. “Had a concussion. Just gotta wait until he wakes up.”

Oizo and Uffie sat on the road and Uffie leaned her head on Sebastian’s stomach. Xavier and Gaspard sat on his other side. Breakbot and Feadz were at his feet, and Thomas and Guy-Man stood over them, watching the road. Guy-Man looked particularly grim.

Bertrand eased himself onto the sidewalk next to Pedro.

“Are you okay?” Bertrand whispered to Pedro.

Pedro looked up at everyone, and down at Sebastian who was smoking and trying to hide his shaking hands.

“We’ll see,” he answered.

 Bertrand nodded.

Pedro leaned over Seb’s face. “How ya doing?”

“What if he dies?” Sebastian asked.

“He’s not going to die,” Pedro told him.

“Yeah I know, but what if he died?” he asked again. No one could answer that question. Sebastian took a drag and examined the cigarette held between his fingers. Pedro wondered what he was thinking about.

“I’d be alone again,” Sebastian said and tried to take another drag, but Uffie snatched it out of his hands.

“No you wouldn’t,” she said and stole a breath of ash before handing it back.

Xavier took the cigarette out of her hand. “We’re your friends, idiot. We all are.”

Gaspard stole it from Xavier and handed it back to Sebastian. “You don’t ever have to be alone again.”

“Not if you don’t want to,” Pedro added. “You can tell us to leave anytime.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything for a moment. He closed his eyes again.

“So until then,” Pedro said. “You’re stuck with us. So no complaining about being alone.”

“And fucking call from time to time,” Xavier said. “You’re driving Busy P nuts.”

Sebastian laughed then and covered his eyes.

“Come on,” Pedro said. “Let’s get you up.”

He stood up, and then knelt so he could get his hands under Sebastian’s shoulders. Everyone followed suit until they had lifted Sebastian off the ground, supporting him. Then they slowly tipped him back onto his feet. When he was on solid ground he flicked the cigarette away into the road and turned to Pedro.

“Alright, your turn,” he said.

Then he advanced on Pedro. Pedro held his hands up to decline.

“Really, I’m fine. I’m like twice your size anyway!”

Sebastian’s foot snaked out and caught his ankle. Pedro tripped and fell and then Thomas and Guy were holding him up by the arms, grinning.

“Get his ankles,” Thomas shouted.

Before Pedro could put up a fight, Sebastian and Oizo had his feet and then Bertrand and Uffie got his right side, and the Justice boys got his left. Breakbot and Feadz stood awkwardly for a moment before dramatically grabbing onto his knees.

Everyone cheered.

Pedro felt oddly safe, supported by all of them, three feet off the ground.  Then silence fell.

“Now what?” Uffie asked.

“Up,” Sebastian said and then everyone lowered him just a hair.

“Oh no I don’t think you guys know what you’re getting into,” Pedro said.

“One,” Sebastian said ominously.

“Guys, seriously, you can just put me down,” Pedro gave a nervous laugh.

Then, with a grin on his face, Bertrand shouted, “Two three go!”

Everyone heaved Pedro into the air. For a brief moment, he was free of any support, free of any burden. Then his stomach became weightless and he became distinctly aware that he was going to crash into something, probably the ground, and he closed his eyes and waited for the pavement to meet him.

His body hit 10 pairs of arms and then 10 pairs of knees buckled and everyone hit the ground together, laughing their heads off. Limbs were tangled and no one cared. They laid in the hospital parking lot, and soon everyone was looking up at the sky.

“Alright, who’s next?” Uffie asked.

“Me! Do me!”

Everyone looked up to see Kavinsky standing on the sidewalk wearing ripped jeans and a bloody tee shirt.

“What the hell are you doing?” Pedro asked.

“I signed myself out,” Kavinsky said. “I’m 18, they can’t tie me down.”

Everyone was basking in his stupidity, speechless for the moment, except Sebastian, who was savagely untangling himself from everyone else. He jumped to his feet, hands balled into fists.

“Seb,” Pedro said, trying to stand up. “Don’t hurt him!”

Sebastian was running and Pedro shouting, “Stop him!” and everyone was trying to get to their feet when Kavinsky seemed to get a hold of the situation. His face fell and then he took a step back. When Seb got to him, he clearly pulled up short from doing something stupid, like hitting him. Everyone was up by then, but they stopped, all of them, at the sight of Kav and Seb staring each other down. The air actually seemed to crackle between them.

“I’m sorry,” Kavinsky said.

“Not yet you’re not,” Sebastian answered. Then he pointed at the hospital. “Get back in bed. Right now. Or I swear I’ll break your ribs again.”

Kavinsky actually dared to smile at him. Then he put his hand on Seb’s head, his fingers disappearing into his hair. It looked innocent enough, but Pedro could see for a brief moment the look of relief that passed over Sebastian’s features, and the fondness of Kavinsky’s smile. He could see the familiarity of the gesture in their eyes, how it seemed to set things right.

“Hey everyone,” Kavinsky said with a wave. “You all came here for me?”

“Yeah, you idiot,” Thomas said. “You should really get back in there. We can see you tomorrow. When you’re bones aren’t hanging out.”

“They’re not hanging out,” Kavinsky said and then pulled up his shirt. There was a rather impressive bandage across his middle, and light burn marks over the part that wasn’t bandaged. “See these?” he pointed at the burn marks. “I was clinically dead for, like, 80 seconds this time.” He paused dramatically before adding. “I’m like a zombie.”

Pedro watched the light go out of Sebastian’s eyes and for a minute he thought the boy very well could be capable of murder. Before Kavinsky could go on to explain the damage to the rest of his body, Sebastian was pushing him away from the crowd.

It was quiet, but it sounded like Sebastian was mumbling, “Gonnakillyou” over and over as he forced Kavinsky back into the hospital.

“Better make sure he stays,” Bertrand said to Pedro and nudged him along.

“Give him our love,” Uffie said. “Boy needs it.”

Pedro ran after them. What he saw was Kavinsky’s father standing in the lobby looking very confused. Kav and Seb looked a little speechless. Pedro stepped inside.

“Hey, everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” his dad said, snapping out of his shock. “I was just…apologizing to the boys. Look Vincent, I’m sorry about what I said. I just…I don’t know what to do with you sometimes. I see a little too much of myself in you and I’m worried you’re just going to be miserable like me. But the truth is…” He glanced at Sebastian. “You’re happy, Vinco and that’s what matters.”

Kavinsky gave him a lopsided smile. His dad went to pat his side, but Kav winced.

“What’s a matter?” he asked.

“I kind of broke a rib I think,” he said, feeling his side.

“What the hell are you doing up?” His dad asked.

“He’s going back now,” Sebastian said. A woman with a wheelchair appeared then and helped Kavinsky into it. She patted his shoulder and then turned to Sebastian.

“You did the right thing honey,” then she wheeled him into the elevator.

“Sorry,” the nurse at the front desk was speaking to the three of them. “But only two visitors are allowed right now.”

Pedro looked over at Sebastian.

Kav’s dad reached into his pocket. He pulled out a set of keys. They were the keys to the testa.

“Why don’t you give these to him. You two are his friends. You’re who he wants to see.”

Sebastian grabbed the keys, but didn’t move. “Come on.”

“You sure?” Kav’s dad asked.

Sebastian nodded. Pedro put his hand on Seb’s shoulder. “You going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” Then he sighed. “Thank you…for driving me out. And…for all of them.” He gestured to the parking lot full of their friends.

“Take care of him,” Pedro said. “We’ll see you later, okay?”

He nodded. Kav’s dad was walking towards the elevator. Sebastian was about to head over when he seemed to remember something.

“Busy P,” he called.

Pedro turned.

“Uffie told me about the concert,” he said. “I…Is it alright if I perform with you?”

Pedro grinned. “We’re taking a group picture soon. Be there.”

Sebastian nodded and then stepped into the elevator. Pedro headed outside. Everyone was lounging around Breakbot’s van.

“How are they?” Gaspard asked.

Pedro nodded. “Good. They’ll be good.”

“He’s not going to kill him is he?” Uffie asked.

Then he smiled. “Nah. Not yet.”

 

Bertrand rode home with Busy P. The whole way back, they talked about the last time they were at a hospital. They talked about their friend. They chose to remember him, not when he was sick and staring up from the scratchy sheets of a hospital bed, but when he was at his best. When he was playing music for them, or riding in the car with them, or dancing at a concert between them. Always between them, the glue that kept them together.

Pedro and Bertrand cried. And then they laughed. And for the first time, it was okay to miss him. Because to miss him was to remember him. And to remember him was to bring him back to life. If only for a moment.

 

A few days later, the photo lab was filled with Bangers. They had set up a curtain against one of the walls so they could all stand next to each other. It was kind of a task to fit them all in frame. Sebastian was about to light a cigarette when Uffie pulled it from his lips and stuck it down the front of her dress.

“We have to look professional,” she admonished.

“You guys look hot,” Kavinsky added with a thumbs up from the other side of the camera. He was sitting in a stool, cast on one arm, but looking much better off.

“You know, maybe I should join your group after all,” Kav said with a grin.

“No!” everyone seemed to shout it at once.

He blinked. “Well if you feel that strongly.”

Pedro smiled and left his place to give Kavinsky a light hug. “We love you, Kav. But you’re a nightmare.”

“Aw, I love you too, P,” he said and patted Pedro’s arm, choosing to ignore the insult.

“Get back in frame,” Bertrand hissed, directing Busy P to his spot, next to Uffie. Then Bertrand set the timer and he jogged over to them, wherein Busy P pulled So Me next to him and they all smiled for the camera. It clicked and flashed and everyone rubbed their eyes. Bertrand jogged back over.

“One more,” he said.

“Fuck this,” Sebastian pulled on Uffie’s dress, to find his cigarette and she screamed and made to punch him. Then she got the cigarette out, and Xavier and Feadz got one too and then Pedro and Bertrand tried to lift Breakbot up on their shoulders but Pedro was too tall and they just wound up hugging each other in the middle of the frame.

Then, Uffie and Sebastian and Mr. Oizo took a picture together. Then the Justice boys. They tried to convince Thomas and Guy-Man to get in on it, but they both refused to be in the pictures. Bertrand tried to sneak up on them, but they both managed to get their faces out of frame.

Kav and Seb took a picture, even though Kavinsky wasn’t technically a part of them.

“He’s an honorary member,” Pedro said.

“He can be our mascot,” Xavier suggested.

“The zombie DJ,” Feadz shouted.

“Dead DJ,” Breakbot offered.

“You’re kidding right,” Kavinsky said. “I’ll be the Dead Cruiser. Way cooler.”

Sebastian shook his head. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Kavinsky laughed and put his arm around Sebastian and Bertrand took the picture.

When it was all over, they got down to business. There were set lists to be made and stages to be designed and acts to be configured. It seemed to be going well when someone pointed out what Pedro was hoping would go unnoticed.

“Neither you nor So Me are on the list,” Xavier said, pointing accusatorily at them.

Pedro and Bertrand looked at each other and sighed. “Yeah yeah alright we’ll do something.”

“They should go right in the middle,” Uffie said with a smile. “Our fearless leaders.” She patted the boys on the head.

“Sounds good, now we just need to, you know, _do_ something,” Bertrand sighed.

“Well the list is set,” Sebastian said, yanking the paper away from Pedro. “Go figure it out.”

Pedro looked at Bertrand who seemed to be shrinking yet again.

“Do we have to?” he asked.

Pedro smiled. “Fraid so.”

He sighed and got to his feet, looking like an 80 year old man. “Aaaalright then.”

They left the computer lab even though it was nearly cold enough to snow and sat on the bench outside the library.

“I’m really excited for this show,” Pedro said. Then he leaned his elbows on his knees. “But I also feel like shit.”

Bertrand nodded, stretching his legs out. “I think I know what you mean.”

Pedro looked over at him, as Bertrand wound his scarf tighter around his neck. “He would have loved this.”

Bertrand tucked the scarf over his mouth, maybe to hide his frown, but he nodded his agreement.

“Maybe its time you stopped thinking about what he would have done,” Xavier was behind them.

Gaspard shoved his hands in his pockets. “He’d be proud of you guys.”

Pedro and Bertrand looked at each other.

“Anyway, we’ll see you tomorrow,” Xavier said and he turned like he was going to walk away, but he stopped. “You know what we said to Sebastian. It goes for you too.”

“Yeah,” Gaspard smiled. “We’re your friends. If you want someone to talk to, we’re here.”

 Pedro felt his eyes burning. He was going to keep looking away and he was going to wait until the urge passed but then their words sunk in and he thought, what the hell? He jumped to his feet and wrapped both of them in a hug and started crying all over them.

“You guys are great! Has anyone ever told you that?” he said as tears ran down his face.

Xavier sighed. “You’re getting snot on my jacket.”

Gaspard nudged him and put his arm around Pedro. “Come on, Xav.”

After a long breath, Xavier returned the hug. “Yeah you’re great too, Busy P.”

“We love you, man,” Gaspard translated.

“I love you guys too,” Pedro said and then he pulled away took a deep breath. “Yeah that was what I needed.”

Xavier shook his head but smiled. “I’ll see you later.”

The two of them headed away to the parking lot. Pedro leaned against the bench and Bertrand laughed at him.

“You’re crazy man.”

The tears will still falling from Pedro’s eyes. “I got an idea. For the show.”

Bertrand smiled. “Let’s hear it.”

 

Pedro called Sebastian a few nights later.

“Hm?” Sebastian answered.

“I want you to listen to something for me.”

“Yeah alright,” he said. “You know it’s 3 in the morning?”

“Yeah. Knew you’d be up. I sent you an email.”

The distant sounds of keys clacking drifted through the phone. “Why aren’t you sending this to Bertrand?” he asked quietly.

“It has to be a surprise for him,” Pedro said. “Besides, I wanted your opinion first.”

Pedro heard his own track start up in the background. Then something else. Sounded like someone cheering.

“EEY This is fucking great man.” It was Kavinsky.

A bit of static ensued and then Sebastian was back. “He’s an idiot, but he’s not wrong. I like it.”

“That’s good to hear,” Pedro said.

“Anything else?” Sebastian asked. It wasn’t a dismissive tone for once.

“Careful I might actually think you’re curious,” Pedro said with a smile.

“Would you believe me if I told you I wanted to know how you were doing?” Sebastian asked.

Pedro laughed. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” Sebastian said. “Even Kavinsky is rolling his eyes.”

“Hey what is he doing over there anyway? You know its 3 in the morning,” Pedro laughed.

Sebastian paused. “That’s not really something you want me to answer.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Pedro said, realizing his mistake. “I just want to make sure you guys are good.”

“Hmm,” came Sebastian’s reply. “You are very good at misdirection you know.”

“It’s kind of my specialty.”

“Just tell me you’ll be alright,” Sebastian said. “And don’t lie.”

Pedro took a breath, glancing up at his wall. At all the pictures he had accumulated that term. Of Ed Banger and of him and Bertrand and So Me’s work.  And the picture of his old friend at the center of it all.

“I think I’ll be alright,” he said and he actually believed himself.

“Good. I have to go and patch up this mess of a relationship.”

He hung up to Kavinsky shouting in the background, “I’ll patch you—”

Pedro returned to his work with a smile.

 

Days later, and they were only days away. Pedro was showing his track to Thomas and Guy-Man. The Justice boys had already given their approval.

He sat behind them in a spinning chair, not moving, just watching their faces. Thomas began nodding his head. And then he was full on head bobbing. Then his hands were up. Guy-Man clapped Pedro on the back.

“This is great,” Thomas said. He took Pedro’s shoulders in his hands. “I’m so proud of you!”

Then he latched onto Guy’s neck. “Our Busy P is growing up!”

Guy pretended to wipe tears from his eyes.

Pedro grinned.

“You don’t need any advice from us,” Thomas told him. “You got this in the bag.”

“Thanks guys,” Pedro was beaming.

“Now get some sleep,” Thomas urged. “You earned it, my son.”

“Now you’re getting creepy,” Pedro said, but before he left, they pulled him into a hug, which turned into him just kind of laying over them in their chairs. Breakbot was staring at them from across the room.

“Should I leave?” he asked, pointing at the door.

“No. You should join us!” Pedro beckoned to him, but he just spun around in his chair.

 

It was surreal showing up to the public school and sitting among their gigantic clean theater. Pedro, Sebastian, the Daft Boys and the Justice boys were all there to see the show. They shimmied into a row together, passing popcorn back and forth.

“Excited?” Pedro asked Sebastian.

“I’m scared for him. Does that make any sense?”

“Yeah,” Pedro smiled. “Makes total sense.”

None of them really knew the plot of the play, except Sebastian who’d helped Kav get ready. And even then he’d only gotten bits and pieces. So it all came as a bit of a shock when the whole thing wasn’t about an actual car and someone’s desire for it. That would have at least made sense for Kavinsky to be in. But it turned out; he was actually a good actor. He wasn’t himself at all up there. Which was truly incredible.

During intermission, they all just kind of turned to each other, open-mouthed.

“What the hell was that?” Xavier asked, pointing at the stage.

“It was incredible,” Thomas said, and Guy-Man nodded, dumbfounded.

“What do you think, Seb?” Pedro asked.

Sebastian shook his head. “This is weird. I think I’m actually…proud. This is new for me.”

Pedro put his arm around his shoulder.

“It’s not fair,” Xavier said. “You can’t be talented in more than one way!”

“What he has in talent, he lacks in sanity,” Sebastian said, still staring up at the stage.

The play came to its terrible dark conclusion a little while later. It was almost disturbing to see their friend play someone so terrible, and to do it so convincingly. And then Pedro remembered it was only a play and he was overcome with a sense of gratitude that he knew that guy up there. The curtain closed, and the Banger boys were the first ones on their feet, clapping madly.

The curtain opened again and the cast reappeared in order of size of role. Kavinksy and the female lead walked out together and then bowed and the crowd was very appreciative, but none beat the shouts from the row of Bangers.

When the curtain closed for the last time, Pedro turned to the guys.

“Did anyone think to get him, like, flowers or something? Isn’t that what you do at plays?”

“I got it,” Sebastian said and pushed Pedro towards the aisles. “We just have to find him.”

So they entered the hallways and asked about fifteen kids where the dressing rooms were before finally finding them. When they got there, there was a crowd of kids and parents in the hall.

“Do you see him?” Sebastian asked.

Pedro turned to Guy and Thomas. “Give me a lift.”

The boys flanked him and wrapped their arms around his middle, hoisting him up. Pedro towered over everyone in the hall for a minute. He searched the crowd for Kav’s letter jacket, but realized he was looking for the wrong thing. He finally spotted him in a white tee shirt, from his costume, also searching through the crowd.

Pedro put his hands around his mouth and shouted, “KAVINSKY.”

He turned towards Pedro, who pointed at Sebastian, who was fighting his way through the mess of people, pulling something out of his back pocket. Pedro watched the two of them collide in the hall. Kavinsky wrapped his arms completely around Sebastian, who pressed his face into Kav’s chest. No one else seemed to notice, and Pedro knew he was the only one of them who could see this happen and suddenly he felt like he was spying. Then they just kind of kept standing there, and Pedro couldn’t see Kavinsky’s hands and he jumped off Thomas and Guy’s shoulders.

“Alright you two,” he said and physically pulled them apart. “That’s enough.”

The others caught up then and everyone congratulated Kavinsky. Sebastian glared at Pedro.

“You’re not my mother,” he said.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Pedro said through a smile.

When everyone had quieted down, Sebastian presented Kavinsky with his version of a bouquet of flowers.

Kavinsky’s face lit up. “They’re perfect.”

He slipped the driving gloves on and opened and closed his hands. The leather cracked as it conformed to his hands.

“Careful,” Thomas said to Sebastian. “You might give him ideas. He did just get out of the hospital.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful,” Kav said, staring at the gloves. “I’m going to wear these all the time.”

“You can thank me later,” Sebastian said.

Pedro put a protective arm around Sebastian. “Or not. Or you can just say thank you and then be done with it.”

“God, mom, get a grip,” Sebastian whispered.

“Guys thanks for coming. It’s really cool to see you,” Kavinsky said. “Come here, all of you.”

They pulled in for a group hug. When they disbanded, Kavinsky offered to drive Sebastian home. As they crossed the parking lot towards the testarossa, Xavier lit a cigarette.

“Those two are fucking right?” he said.

Guy-Man nodded his head.

 

Finally, the day of the concert arrived. Pedro was practically bouncing off the walls. They were all mostly there in the gym setting up. Bertrand had the projector going from behind the stage, so that it shown through the white curtain that hung there and he could upload images as the show went on.

There were so many _things_ on stage. Mics and tables and laptops and guitars and keyboards and chairs.  He had posted the set list on every corner of the stage and also given a copy of it to every single person performing. Even Kavinsky had a copy, just in case things went horribly wrong. Kavinsky was mostly sitting on his ass in the audience and shouting helpful things from time to time like,

“Nice ass!”

Sebastian turned around and gave him the finger.

They all were doing sound checks. Uffie stepped up and belted out a few lines from “I Love U So” and Pedro smiled. She winked at him and stepped down for the next check. By the time they’d all been up, it was getting dark. Pedro pulled everyone in close.

“Alright guys, we have to be prepared for the possibility that no one will show up for this.”

Everyone nodded stoically.

“We’re only in high school and last I checked all of my friends are already here.”

They laughed in that guilty, yeah-me-too kind of way. Except Kavinsky. He scoffed.

“Speak for yourself, losers. I got everyone from my school to come down here.”

Pedro laughed. “Alright, Kav, we’ll see how that goes.”

Thomas piped up. “Actually, I’ve been trying to get the word out too. It might not be as little as you think.”

“Really?” Pedro asked, his face brightening. “This is great!”

“Yeah we actually got it required for our music theory class,” Gaspard said. “Xavier was…insistent.”

“Damn right,” Xavier nodded.

“Look at you boys,” Uffie smiled. “Maybe this will be a real party after all.”

“Well just remember,” Pedro said. “Do your best. But don’t worry too much. We’re here to have fun. Let’s not forget that.” He took a deep breath. “You guys…this is so fucking cool.”

Everyone smiled at him.

“Let’s do it!” Kavinsky shouted and everyone cheered and then glared at him.

“Get out of our huddle,” Xavier said. “You don’t even go here.”

Kavinsky put his arms around Xavier and Gaspard. “You love me.”

“Yeah okay,” Xavier admitted. “But you’re still batshit crazy.”

Kav grinned.

“Everyone put your hand in,” Bertrand said. All of them reached for the middle of the huddle.

“Ed Banger on 3,” he said.

Everyone counted down and then shouted at the tops of their lungs.

“ED BANGER!”

 

An hour later and real live people had started to file into the gym. Pedro was shocked that Kavinsky had actually come through. There was a horde of public school kids talking amongst themselves. And kids they knew were steadily coming inside too. The real shock was when Zdar and Boom showed up with a crowd of their people in tow.

“Zdar?” Pedro asked, jumping off the stage to greet his friend. “What are you doing here?”

“We came to see the show,” Zdar said. “Let’s see what you got for us.”

They took seats in the audience and Pedro retreated backstage to find Bertrand.

“This is unreal,” he said.

Bertrand smiled. “I’m glad I’ll be back here.”

“Until our set,” Pedro reminded him. Bertrand took a deep breath. Right now, he was displaying different versions of the Ed Banger logo as people settled in.

“How many out there?” Bertrand asked.

Pedro peaked behind the curtain. The sight of the nearly full gymnasium was like a shot of electricity.

“A lot,” he managed.

Bertrand swallowed and nodded a couple times. “We can do this.”

Pedro grabbed his shoulders. “We can do this.”

Bertrand looked into his best friend’s eyes and despite the nausea and the terror he managed to smile.

“For Mehdi,” he said.

Pedro’s eyes reflexively watered at the mention of his name but he still smiled back. “For Mehdi.”

“Now wipe your eyes and get out there,” Bertrand said. “You have a show to put on.”

Pedro laughed a little and cleared his vision before taking the stage. As he approached the microphone, he was shocked to see that many people staring back at him. The noise stopped when everyone noticed him standing up there, tall as a giraffe on the stage.

“Hey everyone,” he said into the mic, beaming. “I’m Busy P.”

A few people waved at him from the crowd.

“Well what can I say? A few months ago I had a crazy idea, and as it turns out, there are a couple people here crazy enough to see it through. So, my advice to all of you is this…get up and dance. Music isn’t something to be enjoyed sitting still. Up first…”

Breakbot stepped onto the stage and waved, getting behind a table.

“Breakbot,” Pedro said.

The track team went wild. Breakbot smiled at them before starting the evening off. Pedro happily stepped off the stage to let Breakbot transport them to some kind of funky club. As he had hoped, people were bouncing around in the audience, but they still weren’t brave enough to get up and dance. Pedro went backstage and grabbed Kavinsky, Uffie and Gaspard and the daft boys. Then they secretly infiltrated the audience and began grabbing people out of their seats and getting everyone to move. When Pedro was satisfied with the number of the dancers, he retreated back to where Bertrand was showing videos of time lapsed illustrations and little animations.

He ran up to Bertrand and grabbed his shoulders. “It’s happening!”

Bertrand laughed.

Pedro watched Breakbot finish out his set on the sidelines. Uffie had disappeared from the crowd and snuck up beside him, putting her arms around him.

Feadz was next up. he sidled up behind Breakbot and jumped in, catching the tail end of his song and then mixed it right into his. Feads, Uffie and Oizo had a plan. They were going to mix right into one another, with Uffie providing the bridge between them. People readily switched their dancing to Feadz style. And when Uffie strutted onto the stage, the choir went nuts for her. She winked at the audience and showed them how it was done. She did one song for feadz, then her second song was a mix of one she had done with Feadz and one she had done with Oizo, so the other boy joined Feadz on stage, and they blended their sounds until he phased Feadz out and then his own music played.

By then more than half the crowd was on their feet, and they had begun pushing their chairs out of the way and making their own little dancefloor.

When Oizo had finished, Sebastian was up. He handed Kavinsky his cigarette and stepped into Oizo’s place.

Sebastian had mercifully shown Pedro some of his stuff before this night, so he at least knew Sebastian had songs. And yet, he was completely unprepared. It was so much bigger in person. Sebastian was the first one to grab the audience and tell them what to do. The atmosphere that came over the room surprised Pedro. Everything felt very sensual and moody and the dancing even changed pace.

“Mother fucker, look at him go,” Kavinsky said beside Pedro.

“He’s good,” Pedro said.

“He’s better than good.” Kav’s eyes were wide.

“Control yourself,” Pedro scolded.

Kavinsky put his hands to his mouth and wolf whistled. Pedro actually turned and made to grab his arms.

“I’m sorry,” Kav said. “I’m done, I swear.”

Pedro smiled at him and they both put their arms around each other. Until Pedro remembered he was going next. He found Bertrand as the set was coming to a close. Bertrand was running much darker images for Sebastian’s set. When Pedro found him, he looked pale as a ghost.

“You ready?” Pedro asked.

Bertrand inhaled deeply and then nodded. “Now or never.”

Sebastian’s last song came to a close. The projector went blank. Pedro grabbed Bertrand and they took the stage. Bertrand had to set up the projector from the other side, so he could be seen working. Pedro took the mic.

“Hello again,” he said. “Hope you all enjoyed that. Up next is an act we like to call Busy Pictionary. Enjoy, and please, tell us what you think.”

Pedro got into position and looked up at Bertrand, who gave him a thumbs up. He had his computer plugged in and was ready to draw. Pedro started the music. It was a slow start, so Bertrand just began swirling colors onto the background, filling the projector screen. Then the music started jumping and people appeared on the screen, and they were moving too there were words stretched across the screen and emotion driven into every beat. The audience reacted and people started moving as if they were being painted too. As the song reached the climax, the whole room seemed to synch up.

That moment could have gone on forever.

But the song came to an end and the beautiful mess of colors above them careened into one last splash of color with the words _I Am Somebody_ scrawled into it.

When Pedro saw it, he could have collapsed. It was perfect. It was everything. It was _him_. He was grateful when Xavier and Gaspard took the stage and shooed the off, because Pedro grabbed Bertrand and hobbled off the stage with them, already in tears. They sat on the floor behind the stage and held onto each other as Justice tore the room apart.

It took them a full song to get back on their feet, and then Bertrand got back to manning the projector and Pedro watched the Justice boys do what they did best. At some point, Thomas and Guy-Man found him. Guy-Man was nodding along. Thomas smiled.

“This is great.”

Pedro nodded. “Will you do me a favor and be perfect up there?”

Thomas grinned. “We’ll do our utmost.”

Pedro finally breathed normally. As Justice began to wrap up, Thomas disappeared behind the stage. When he came back, he was holding what appeared to be two supped up motorcycle helmets. They had been painted, one gold and one silver.

“Wish us luck,” Thomas said and put one of them on. He handed the other to Guy-Man.

Guy-Man put his arm around Pedro’s back and leaned in very close to whisper. “Thank you.”

Then he put his helmet on. Pedro watched them take over for Justice. The boys came off the set looking floored. Xavier punched Pedro and then Gaspard gave him a hug. Then they headed off in a daze.

Thomas and Guy-Man took the stage looking like a couple of robots. And when they plugged in and the music began, he thought that maybe they were just that. And then Thomas began to clap and Guy-Man was dancing and he saw through the disguise for a moment. Bertrand sent up the words _just some Daft Punk_ up to the projector. People laughed and cheered for them. It was unreal. Their sound was different. It was big and it got people singing and having fun and swinging through the crowd again. They were the base, the supports, the start. And now they were the end.

Pedro closed his eyes. The music soothed his soul. It made him smile. It made him want to dance. He decided to join the crowd, and dragged everyone else back with him. They danced together as one with Daft Punk as their guide and their friend. And Pedro felt distinctly a part of something completely out of his control.

Then Thomas and Guy-Man slowed it way down until the beat simplified into something workable. Uffie climbed back on stage and provided a couple lines of vocals. Then Feadz joined her and he found a place behind the table and began throwing in a little bit of extra flavor. One by one, they all took the stage again, and recreated the song that they had been working on. Pedro and Bertrand were the last ones up. Together they added the finishing touches.

When Pedro looked out at the crowd, it was a blur of movement and bodies and sound. But something caught his gaze. A familiar build. Pedro grabbed Bertrand’s arm. His friend startled and looked up at him.

“What is it?” Bertrand asked.

But it was gone. Pedro shook his head. “I thought I saw something…”

“Can you believe this?” Bertrand asked, for once looking comfortable up there on stage with everyone.

“Yes,” Pedro said. Because for the first time it all felt real. He was creating something with people he loved and he could see the way it made people feel right in front of his eyes. He mattered. This mattered. Ed Banger was real and tangible and they were making a difference.

Pedro felt the hole in his chest, the one that had been gnawing away at him since last spring, he felt it finally closing up.

He would never have his friend back. But there was still so much left for him in the world. Music would be his path. And these people, they would be his inspiration. And this night would live in his memories alongside his best friend for the rest of his life.

When the song came to a close, everyone clapped for them. They all joined hands and bowed together. The next half and hour was all congratulations and Pedro felt a little overwhelmed by the reaction but he smiled through it all and thanked as many people as he could for coming. When the room had finally settled, he retreated to find a water fountain, which he had needed desperately since he had first taken the stage. Then he just kind of stood back there for a minute, letting the feeling wash over him.

“You okay?” Bertrand asked.

Pedro smiled at him. “Never been better.”

They leaned against the wall together, listening to the echoes of the other room.

“What did you see back there?” Bertrand asked him after a minute.

Pedro looked up at the ceiling. “It was stupid…but I saw a kid out there…for a minute he looked just like Mehdi.”

Bertrand didn’t say anything for a minute and Pedro was getting ready to pretend it never happened when his friend whispered.

“How did he look?”

Pedro’s eyes slid shut. “He looked good. Happy. He was dancing, just like he used to. His eyes were closed and it was like…he didn’t want to be anywhere else but there. Listening to our music.”

When Pedro opened his eyes again, Bertrand wiped his own eyes and smiled.

Then Uffie and Sebastian and Kavinsky appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, come on, we’re going out to celebrate,” Uffie said with a grin.

“Don’t even think about running away,” Sebastian said.

All three of them looked rushed with adrenaline, like they had absorbed the energy from the night.

“Be right there,” Pedro said.

“Milkshakes for everyone!” Kavinsky shouted and his words bounced around the gym for a while. He could hear everyone else talking about the show, and about what they could do _next time_ and how it was out of this world.

“You ready?” Bertrand asked, stepping towards the others. “They’re waiting for us.”

And that was the most beautiful thing of all.

 

 


End file.
